


This to Our Blood is Born

by slantedsunlight



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: An angst sandwich with a fluffy filling, Author is losing her mind but in a good way, Author is smug that her OTP is canon, Balance in the force, Bedsharing, Ben Solo Deserved Better, Ben Solo Gets His Second Chance, Ben Solo Lives, Ben Solo isn't dead, Don't @ Me, F/M, First Time, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Movie: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Oh and Rey uses the Light AND Dark side, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rey has major Top energy, Rey isn't taking this lying down, TROS but make it GOOD, World Between Worlds, feelings porn and actual porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slantedsunlight/pseuds/slantedsunlight
Summary: Rey returns to the Resistance Base after defeating Palpatine on Exegol, but she can't move on, haunted by the loss of Ben Solo. She dreams of him every night, holding out his hand to her, if only she could reach back and take it. And then she decides she's going to figure out how, even if she has to read through every Jedi AND Sith text in the galaxy."Her stomach did a flip, as hope and anxiety surged within her. This could be it. This could be the way to getting Ben back.Carefully, she turned the page, straining to make out the words.'The retrieval of a Bondmate, while simple in theory, takes great Concentration in the Force…'"
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 108
Kudos: 634





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This serves as a companion fic to TROS, something that doesn't completely contradict it, but moves past it to correct the story's ending and fill in some of the plot holes. Parts II and III are already in draft form, incoming soon!

**_If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn  
_ ** **_Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;  
_ ** **_Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;  
_ ** **_It is the show and seal of nature's truth,  
_ ** **_Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth:  
_ ** **_By our remembrances of days foregone,  
_ ** **_Such were our faults, or then we thought them none._ **

_\- William Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well: Act 1, Scene 3_

  
  


  
  


_BEEP BEEP ZIIURL WOO-OOO!_

Rey jolted awake, heart pounding, and abruptly felt herself falling a foot back onto her cot. At the same time, a loud metallic _thump_ came from the corner, where BB-8 had also, apparently, been dropped from the air. 

Wincing, she sat up quickly, scrubbing a hand over her eyes and flicking on the cool glow of lights in her room with just a thought. 

“Sorry, BB-8. Are you all right?” She slid to the floor on rubbery legs, mind still full of dreams, and reached out to run a hand along his smooth side. 

_Wee-woooo_ , he moped. 

“I know, I know,” she sighed, sitting back on her heels and roughly combing her fingers through her mussed hair. “I can’t keep doing this.”

It felt like weeks since she’s had a proper night’s sleep, but in truth she’d only been back on the resistance base for five days. 

Five days since she faced Palpatine on Exegol, and had most of her life force drained away. Five days since she awoke in Ben Solo’s arms, felt the warmth of his hands, had kissed him until he grinned so wide against her mouth she couldn’t help but pull back to see it. 

Five days since she watched the brilliant spark go out of his eyes, and his body disappear, giving up his life for hers. 

Dropping her head into her hands, Rey groaned, a fresh wave of fury and grief and pained denial blazing through her, even as her exhausted body dragged her down, begging for sleep. 

After making it through the hardest battle of her life, a numb flight back to base that she barely remembered, and possibly the galaxy’s largest party on record in the aftermath, all Rey wanted to do was sleep. Yet real rest seemed to elude her. She felt wrung out, wobbly and weak as a feverish child. Oh, she was _sleeping_ all right- more than usual, even. She went to bed early, losing consciousness as soon as she laid down; but her mind never turned off, it only went inward. 

The dreams were unending. Visions of lightning and hoards of Sith assailed her, her friends dropping out of the sky to their deaths, the flash of blasters and the taste of blood in her mouth. Sometimes she fought herself, that demon with her face and razor teeth, coming at her with the double-ended saber. Sometimes it was Palpatine, sucking the life out of her, out of Master Luke and Leia, out of Poe and Finn. But always, _always_ her dreams led to Ben. 

He was there in the nightmares along with her, dying a thousand different times, but smiling at her too, fighting back-to-back with her, carving down their enemies together. And then, at the end, he was always there, standing in a quiet, dark space, serene and warm and alive. 

Every night for five nights, Rey had had the same dream, of Ben holding out his hand to her, so close she could smell him: leather and salt and warm skin. And for five nights, she reached out to take that hand, feeling his presence grow stronger the closer she got, _almost there_... before she woke up. Floating in mid-air. 

She had to do something. Sick with grief and bone-tired, her only plan upon landing Luke’s X-Wing had been to find her friends and recover her strength for a few days. Then, she had thought she’d have a clearer head, and could make a new plan for her future. But those days had passed, and she didn’t feel any more refreshed or hopeful. She still didn’t have any idea what to do next.

She thought maybe the work would help her, as she poured her efforts into sorting out the mess left behind by years of war, alongside the remains of the Resistance on Ajan Kloss. Organizing supplies, memorial services, refugees, and communications between long-cut-off sectors of the galaxy was a big undertaking, not to mention navigating a sudden power vacuum with the First Order gone. Its remnants were scattered and largely disillusioned, if the rumors were to be believed, but someone should probably be keeping and eye out regardless.

Thus, inevitably, Rey found herself surrounded by people: well-wishers and mourners, those seeking help and those offering it. Even General Organa’s staff - now Poe and Finn’s, she supposed - came to her for assistance, asking advice from the last known Force User. 

Rey was glad to help, of course, but then… after a quiet, solitary life on Jakku, the sheer amount of people who wanted a moment of Rey’s time was dizzying. All those years spent alone, desperate for someone to come for her, and now that she had people- a _family_ \- she just wanted a moment of peace. It pulled at the dregs of her energy like sinking sands, and she fled to the quieter cabin of the Falcon earlier and earlier in the day, where only her friends might look for her, if they weren’t so busy themselves. So in the quiet of the ship, she tinkered with the makings of a new saber, and she slept, and she dreamed, and her heart ached, and she was kriffing _tired_.

All right then, she thought, lying back on her bed to stare up defiantly at the metal ceiling. She wasn’t getting anywhere waiting around for her head to clear, for some kind of inspiration to hit her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she pushed through a fuzzy headspace, not after a life toeing the line of starvation. Hunger clouded the mind, made you stupid. What she was feeling now wasn’t all that different. Perhaps she just had to deal with it the same way she always had: by letting her primal instincts take over and steer her towards what she needed to survive. 

Her first thought after that was of Ben, and she winced again, angry with herself. Forcing her weary body out of bed, she started pulling on clothes in agitation. She didn’t know where she was going yet, but she was _going_ , she had decided that much. In the meantime, just moving helped draw her attention away from the empty gap in her awareness - like a missing limb, or a friend standing just behind her that was gone every time she turned around. It had felt like that since Exegol, only now she recognized that the awareness itself had begun much further back, perhaps even before their shared Force visions. She couldn’t actually remember what it felt like to _not_ have his presence there, on the edges of her mind. Unbidden, Ben’s words on the deck of the Star Destroyer came back to her:

_“We’re a dyad in the Force, Rey. Two that are one.”_

_“A power like life itself,”_ Palpatine’s voice followed in a whisper.

Rey shivered in the cool air of her room, hugging herself. She knew the man Ben was before had done horrible things, but she had seen the good in him too, and when he’d shown up on Exegol, it was like all of her best visions come true. He had given up Kylo Ren. He had turned to the light after all. 

If only his second chance hadn’t been cut off at the knees.

She swiped a sleeve across her face, willing her eyes to stop stinging. The soft, fine wool of the tunic, Ben’s tunic, was warm against her skin, absorbing her tears. She knew it was childish, but it was all that was left of him, so she’d taken it with her. Now she wore it every day, even though it still smelled of ozone and dust and both of their sweat, and was probably bloodstained, though the fabric was too dark to tell. It swallowed her small frame, and she belted her blaster holster around it, just so it wouldn’t hang quite so obviously. 

Not that Finn and Poe hadn’t noticed; she knew they had. Their concern was palpable through the Force, a cloud of love and anxiety, joy and sorrow between the three of them. Even the victors of war still lose an awful lot, she had come to realize.

But at least Finn and Poe had found each other. 

Climbing out of her quarters in the Falcon, Rey smiled to see them cuddled up together in front of the Dejarik board, opposite Chewie. The three of them had taken to a game in the early morning, soaking up each other’s company before another busy day of post-war clean up. 

“Rey, will you tell Chewie to make a move already? He won’t listen to us,” Poe whined, his chin propped on Finn’s shoulder, arms around his middle. He was surprisingly clingy, for a macho hotshot pilot, but Finn certainly didn’t seem to mind, grinning softly in the multicolored lights of the holoboard.

Chewbacca trilled an affronted reply, and Rey offered her friends a tired smile. “Good morning to you, too.”

She shoved in next to them, craving human contact, and Finn slung an arm over her shoulder. 

“I was hoping you’d be up early,” he said. “Wanna help me organize refugee transports? Casterfo called for volunteers, but he’s scary and he likes you better than me.”

Rey leaned her head against his, closing her eyes in weariness. “I can’t,” she said softly. “I have to go.”

“ _Go?_ ” Finn sat up straighter, “What do you mean, go? Go where? We just _won_ a _war_ and I’ve hardly seen you in weeks, and now-” 

Poe tightening his arms around Finn. “Easy, buddy. Let her explain.”

Finn sighed but closed his mouth, looking at Rey in pointed expectation. 

Rey looked down at her hands, at the nails she’d bitten to the quick. “I- I need to go away for a while. Not forever, just-”

“A breather,” Poe supplied.

“Yes,” Rey agreed gratefully, looking up at her friends.

“Okay, so...where?” Finn prodded.

Rey paused, a vision of sand and twin suns and the two sabers she still possessed flashing through her mind. She’d never been there, but suddenly it seemed like the only choice.

“Tatooine.” 

\----  
  


Rey spent most of the day saying her farewells and packing. Some sense in the Force told her to prepare for a long journey, even though Tatooine was only a couple of systems over. She would be there in mere hours - but then, she wasn’t sure how long she’d stay, or even what she might find there. So she packed a fair amount of supplies, clothes and her old desert goggles. She hesitated over the Jedi texts she’d inherited from Masters Luke and Leia. She wasn’t sure they really belonged to her, and certainly they were too priceless to lug around like spare parts, but at the same time she couldn’t imagine leaving them behind. And who else would want them, now that Force Users were nearly extinct? She closed the lid on the case, clicking it shut, and picked it up.

Rey felt a bit guilty about taking the Falcon for her personal use, now that ships were in shorter supply and there was much to be done, but Chewie and the Resistance leaders had assured her it was hers to take. When she arrived at its berth, it was to find BB-8 and Poe, who had just finished with refueling it. 

“Figured she should be combat-ready again, just in case, so BB-8 and I did a preflight check already. She’s in great condition for having been through a few wars and more, now.”

“Thank you, Poe. Not just for this, but for- being so understanding. And for taking care of Finn.”

He smiled at her, all roguish dimples. “That ain’t a hardship. But he’ll miss you - and I will too.” 

He hugged her, hard, just as Finn ran into the clearing, out of breath.

“Caught. You. Didn’t want-,” he gasped, “to miss saying goodbye.” 

Rey pulled him into her hug with Poe, and the three of them held on tight for a long moment. 

“I wouldn’t leave without seeing you both,” she told Finn, pulling back. He looked conflicted, something weighty flickering in his eyes, and Rey felt a surprising ripple in the Force, stronger than the usual emotions she could sense. 

“Finn? What is it?”

He glanced at Poe with a flash of guilt or maybe embarrassment, and then he looked back at Rey, determined. 

“Listen, can I come visit you in a little while, on Tatooine? I know you need- a breather, but I still feel like we haven’t caught up, and I’d like to. If that’s okay.”

Rey felt the shadow of loss around her, a painful tightness in her chest that had put a wall up; she knew she had been distancing herself from her friends, even if it wasn’t on purpose. They’d _all_ lost people, and her own grief was no bigger than anyone else’s, but that hadn’t made it any easier to open up, these last few days. 

“I’d like that,” she murmured, pulling him into another hug. She was so sick of crying by now, but the tears fell anyway; loving a friend this much, and saying goodbye. She didn’t know how to put into words her apologies, or her affection, or her need to get away, so she didn’t try. She just held her friend tightly, and then let him go. 

Finn stepped back, and Poe took his hand, squeezing their laced fingers. Rey turned to load the rest of her haul, not that there was much. Shutting the storage hatch, she made her way into the familiar cockpit and booted up the flight sequence.   
  


\----

Dry air.   
Heat heavy across her shoulders, as if the glare of sunlight had a weight to it.   
The smell of oil and silicon. 

It hit Rey like a speeder, head on. The grittiness of Mos Eisley was jarringly familiar as she passed over it, all corrugated steel, sun-bleached concrete and cracked sandstone. For a moment she was a child again, returning from her foraging with a handful of parts to trade for portions. But then she felt the hum of life through the city, mechanics and traders, pilots and barkeeps, vermin and thieves; she had never known _that_ sensation on Jakku. 

Luke had told her once about his childhood home. A few klicks west of Mos Eisley, which he has called “a wretched hive” while smiling like it was some old joke, was the Lars Moisture Farm, now long abandoned. Between that and her sense in the Force, it wasn’t hard for Rey to find it. There were few other buildings in the middle of the desert on this outer rim planet. 

Still, she felt lucky to have spotted it amid the dunes and the glare of twin setting suns. One bad sandstorm and the whole place was likely to be buried. She landed the Falcon out front and slid down to the sunken living space, smiling at that familiar feeling. Her muscles remembered how to walk on sand like no time had passed at all. 

Most of the rooms were underground, with either closed doors or hallways not quite as sand-filled, thankfully. Down one passageway was a set of old, dusty tanks that she could tell were full of water, obviously left over from when the moisture farm was operational.

“Well, I won’t die of thirst, at least,” she muttered.

It was short work to clean the majority of the sand out, concentrating on the kinetic energy of the stuff, how it wanted to slide and shift. She just shifted it _out_. A steep stairway was hidden beneath, against the wall, and she gratefully climbed the carved stone steps back out to collect her things from the Falcon.

She had just about everything she needed in her arms, and was making her way back down the entry ramp, when she heard a sound echo through the ship. Freezing, Rey retraced her steps silently, and drew her new saber, ready to flick it on. 

_Eee-oruoooo-oruii!_ a sound bleeped from one of the smuggler’s panels in the ship’s floor.

All the tension went out of her at once. “BB-8? What-?” She leaned down to pry the panel up, and there was the droid, chirping at her. 

“How did you get on board? You little sneak!” Quickly, he hauled himself up with his own cable, head swiveling sheepishly.

 _WAPO-WUIT-EEP._

“I _don’t_ need looking after, thank you very much. I came out here to be alone.”

 _Waap-eee-un-UHH-UHH-Wooo-ip_ , he replied, zooming through the galley and down the Falcon’s entry ramp, peeking back at her impishly.

Sighing, Rey bit back a small smile. Droids never felt as tiresome as people did, and in truth, she was glad to have the company.

“Fine then, but don’t get us into trouble. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime by now.”

 _Yee-yo-Eee-wu-Eee!_ he agreed.

Shrugging a bag onto her shoulder, she stepped out onto the sand once more and looked around at the dunes. It was restful, the desert quiet; the pervasive, familiar heat, even as the first sun set. She found herself relaxing. Poe had called it a “breather,” and the term fit; she _could_ breathe easier, no longer worried if her friends were in danger, and finally away from the static of so many people’s emotions rippling through the Force. She had gotten pretty good at shutting it out, but not when she was this tired. The thought reminded her just how much rest she needed, and she hurried to finish her tasks for the day, looking forward to lying down. 

There was something she needed to do first, however. Kneeling down, she opened her pack and pulled out the twin sabers of her two masters. It pained her to look at them now, after so much loss. They were full of memories: the rush of pride when she pleased Luke or Leia in training, the vicious joy of swinging the blades through the air… the wonder and thrill of sending one to Ben through the Force… and spending every last bit of her life force to send Palpatine’s deadly lightning back at him. And then, what happened after.

She took out a length of cloth and wrapped the two sabers up tightly, making sure no sand would sneak in. Even if they were never used again, they deserved to be laid to rest with dignity. Binding the package with a leather cord, Rey took it up to the dunes by the house and placed it gently on the sand. Closing her eyes, she sent it sinking down to rest in the cool darkness beneath. It was the closest thing to a burial she could give Luke and Leia - and Ben, she supposed, though she had no saber to bury for him. The pain of it hit her anew, and she bowed her head, remembering them all.

“There’s been no one for so long,” came a creaking voice across the sand, and Rey turned to see a withered desert woman, towing a large beast of burden behind her. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Rey.” She smiled kindly, seeing a version of who she might have become, in another life. 

The woman squinted at her in confusion, clearly expecting more. “Rey Who?” 

Rey’s mind stalled for a moment, the question too heavy to take on, but before she could think of a reply, a tug in the Force drew her attention. There, a ways across the sand to her right, were the Force ghosts of the Skywalker twins, smiling at her. She blinked, astonished, and something in her leapt. Dragging in a breath, she spun, looking through the fading light for the third figure, for Ben Solo’s ghost, but _he wasn’t there_. What did that mean? His body had faded, becoming one with the Force just as Luke’s had, just as Leia’s had - hadn’t it? Rey turned back to look at the Jedi Master and the General, a million questions on her lips, but they were already fading. 

“No!” she cried, stumbling towards them. “Wait, please!”

She kept her eyes on them as she ran, the old woman forgotten, but it was already too late. Luke winked at her, and Leia smiled wryly, and then they were gone. 

Falling to her knees in the sand, Rey growled in frustration. By the time she remembered she wasn’t alone in the desert, the woman and her beast were gone, lost among the dunes once more.

Sighing, Rey picked herself up and stalked back to the house, taking one more look around the barren landscape through the failing light before she made her way back down the worn steps. She had to pause as she reached the bottom, swaying on her feet.

 _Beep-Beep-Ka-Wirp?_ BB-8 chirped, swiveling around to welcome her.

“Yes, I’m fine, just tired,” Rey replied, steadying herself with a hand against the wall.

She wasn’t up for real food, too exhausted even for chewing, so she popped an energy capsule into her mouth and let it dissolve on her tongue as she tried a few of the doors. The first was an ancient ‘fresher, and the second opened onto a set of stairs that led further down - into a garage, by the smell of old oil and solenoid fluid. The third door opened to a bedroom. Relieved, Rey dug a fresh blanket out of her pack, tossed it across the stale old mattress and collapsed onto it.

Despite the evening’s frustrations, for the first time in days she slept without any nightmares. Be it a change of scenery, distance from the leaking dreams of others, or simply her body’s demand for it, Rey finally found real, deep sleep. She knew only comforting blackness, the sleep of a child -- until her mind suddenly sharpened again, coming into focus like breaching the surface of an ocean, and Ben was standing before her once more. 

“Rey,” He murmured, voice warm and deep. He reached out a hand towards her, as he did in all her dreams. 

_Where were you,_ she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t speak. She could only reach for his hand, and this time she felt like maybe she was strong enough to do it. She pushed through the darkness like pushing through a strong wind, drawing on the Force to take that _one_ step closer, just enough to put her hand into his. 

It was solid and warm and nothing like a dream at all. She could feel calluses and scars beneath her palm, his fingers gripping hers tightly. 

_Ben_ , she tried to say, but her voice had no sound. Still, he smiled at her, a real smile, one she'd never seen before. He looked conflicted, like he was happy to see her but there was more beneath, something he was asking of her, but he couldn’t say it. 

Suddenly she could feel herself being pulled backwards, and Ben squeezed her hand, hard, before she was ripped away. 

She woke gasping, floating upside down, and staring out into the pale light of a desert morning through the inverted view of her open doorway. From beyond the bedroom, she could hear BB-8’s motors whirring uselessly, but this time she reached out a tendril of control and stopped his fall just in time. She swung herself upright and floated gently down to sit on the bed, staring at her hand.

There was just the faintest imprint of fingers on her skin, the white outline quickly fading as she watched, but it was there. He had been there, as real as she was. 

BB-8 came rolling into the room a moment later, chirping in excitement, but Rey wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was whirling, full of questions and possibilities, but one thing was solid and clear in her mind: Ben Solo wasn’t dead, and she was going to find a way to bring him back.   
  


\----  
  


Rey wasted no time that morning. Digging a ration bar out of her pack, she hurriedly devoured it between gulps of stale water drawn from the moisture tanks. At the same time, she sat on the stone floor and tore through the Jedi texts she’d brought, seeking something - anything - that might be useful. She had seen Ben’s body fade away, but he hadn’t become one with the Force, or else he would have shown up with Luke and Leia, she was pretty sure. So then, where was he? Somehow stuck in the Force, but not absorbed by it? Was it possible to live in someone else’s dreams? She skimmed through a tome that delved into the mysteries of the Force, and her eyes caught on a passage she’d never read before.

_“Movement and Space within the Force are both part of and apart from the physical world. Force Users may learn how to bend the flow of energy in on itself, like skipping stones across an endless sea. In this way, messages, visions, even physical objects may be pushed or pulled through the fabric of the universe and out the other side, traveling great distances without the User ever moving._

_It is said that some very gifted Masters may even take this method further, creating rifts in the walls of the physical world to pass through themselves, traveling wheresoever they choose. These corridors, as they have been described, take the User into The World Between Worlds, a plane within the Force existing between time and space, linking all moments in time together. The Jedi have whispered of this skill for generations, though the art of it has long been lost to scholars; it is possible the ability is still preserved and taught by those who dabble in the Dark side of the Force, those ever-greedy for knowledge and power, but only speculation remains to those who seek to walk the path of Light alone.”_

No sooner had she read the words that a vision flashed before her, great stone statues of hooded figures, torn down into rubble. An unending expanse of gray light, cracked rock and a cavernous space filled with lightning. 

Exegol. _Kriff._

Rey sat back, breathing hard. She had left that place behind for good, or so she’d thought. So much darkness and grief, terror and hopelessness were rooted there. Was that really the answer? To go back to the Sith temple and- what, look for some corrupt text on how to enter an alleged phantom world to find her- her--

Her mind halted in that train of thought, skipping over a variety of potential descriptors, her cheeks warming. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus, considering all her options here.

Forget this and move on - impossible. 

Return to her friends to ask for their help - and _would_ they help bring Ben Solo back, if she asked? They hadn’t even seen him since he’d turned to the Light, and if anyone alive had reason to hate Kylo Ren, surely Finn and Poe did. It wouldn’t be fair to ask them, and they’d probably think she’d lost her mind if she did.

Stars, maybe she had, if she was now seriously considering returning to the absolute last place she’d ever want to go again, just for the _chance_ that _maybe_ some theoretical - and likely evil - text would tell her how to bring her former enemy back to this world. Assuming he could. Assuming- everything, really. 

Rey reclined all the way back, until she was looking up at a perfect circle of bright blue sky. In another hour the suns would be high enough that her shady spot on the floor would be scorching, but for now it was cool against her back. BB-8 rolled over, gently bumping into her arm, and beeped in inquiry.

“What do you think, BB-8? Am I crazy?”

A titter like music filtered out of his speaker, punctuated by a _Wah-pou-la-Wah-loo._

Rey laughed. “Thanks, I think.”

Drawing herself back up, she felt the decision settle onto her, the rightness of it melting away her doubts. A warm breeze floated down to caress her face, and she thought she felt a faint sense of approval wash over her through the Force.

“All right then.” She stood, dusting herself off. “Want to go for a ride, BB-8?”  
  


\----

They burst into Exegol’s atmosphere just as a flash of lighting lit the sky. Momentarily blinded, Rey blinked, her Force senses taking over, until - 

“Whoa, that’s a lot of people,” she said, pulling up on the controls to slow their descent. 

Below them, the surface of the planet was fairly swarming with figures, clustered around the great carcasses of Super Star Destroyers that littered the ground for Klicks in every direction. Palpatine’s fleet had been massive, she knew, but it was shocking to see it laid out from above like this. She hadn’t been paying any attention when she’d last left. 

_Woop-woop-urit?_

Rey glanced down, having almost forgotten the droid was there. 

“They’re scavengers,” she told him. “Some of them ours, I’m sure, but… there were a lot of other people that joined us, at the end, and that’s an empire’s worth of parts for the taking. A haul like that doesn’t stay secret for long.”

She flew closer to the Sith temple, spotting Resistance ships among the wreckage as she searched for a clear spot to land. It shouldn’t have surprised her, the bands of people showing up to reap what bounty they could, especially after the First Order had stripped them of so much. For a fleeting moment she almost itched to join in, knowing how easy it would be, how many valuable parts would be intact and just waiting right there. She knew better than most which items to go for first, after all. But the scavenger in her gave way to the Jedi, and her mission at hand. 

Dropping the Falcon down not far from where she’d once landed Luke’s X-Wing, Rey took a deep breath and lowered the ramp. 

“Stay here, please,” she told BB-8. “I’ll be back soon.”

Her nerves jittered, stomach twisting as she faced the looming structure once more, less than a ten-day from her last visit. More lighting struck around her, and when she breathed in, it was decay and burning metal that hit her nose.

With no other choice, she steeled herself and stepped inside, retracing her own steps with a sickening sense of deja vu. 

Parts of the temple had caved in. Not one of the stone Sith giants still stood, and the rubble made for slow going. Some of it she could climb over easily enough, but in other places she had to Force-lift obstructions out of the way. And all the time, she was reaching out with her mind, wincing at the Dark stain the whole temple carried. But she kept searching, knowing there must be a space for relics, a library of some kind… and so there was.

The room was blocked by not only cracked stones, but also a locked door, not even visible to the eye. Its signature was dripping with corrupt Force energy, a hunger that pulsed like the endless storm overhead. Rey held a hand out toward it and closed her eyes, seeking the answer to its opening, and jumped when the vision of snapping teeth came at her. She saw dripping blood, and felt fury, the gnawing demand of a void, and without thinking about it too much, drew a small knife from her boot. 

She flicked the blade open, and the feelings intensified - a smell of fresh meat carved off living bone, a hatred so strong she had to swallow against the bile that rose in her throat. She drew the blade lightly down her palm, wincing as the pain lanced through her, and cupped her hands together, letting them fill with her own hot blood. Disgust and fear turned to anger inside her, the heat of being denied, of being forbidden to enter, and with a snarl she flung her blood at the spot in the wall where she felt the door. It splattered across the stone, looking black in the dim light, but when she blinked it was gone, absorbed or eaten - she couldn’t begin to guess - and then the panel of stone slid open. Cautiously, she entered.

Lights flickered on, of an ugly yellow cast, but strong enough to see the wide shelves lining the room, and several glass cases standing in the middle. She glanced at them once, but their contents were unsettling enough to send her eyes skittering away, and she turned to take in the assortment of dusty items and ancient-looking tomes on display all around her. 

She reached her hand towards one of the books, and was startled to notice the still-dripping cut, both her palms stained orange in the sickly light. She took a moment to reach into the Force, closing the wound as if it had never been, but the blood on her hands she could do little about. She opted to wipe some of it off on the stone wall rather than further damage Ben’s tunic, but in the end had to settle for being sticky and disgusting as she once more reached for the first of a dozen heavy books. 

They were all of them, every last one, written in Sith.

Rey sat down heavily, a shelf digging into her back, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did. What had she expected, from the _Sith_ texts in the _Sith Temple_? She’d come back here for nothing. With no way of learning the very thing she came all this way to find, and probably her only chance at getting Ben back. 

She felt so kriffing stupid. 

Finally, her spine aching, she pulled herself to her feet, tossing the book in her hands back onto the shelf, and turning to leave, defeated.

“ _Never underestimate a droid,_ ” came Leia’s voice in her memory, and Rey very nearly tripped as she spun back around, looking at the tomes with fresh eyes. 

If she could get her hands on a translation Droid, or even the parts, she just might be able to read these. It was a slim chance, given the sheer volume of text detailing stars-knew-what, doubtless none of it good; even the thing she hoped to find was probably going to be unpleasant at best. But she could sort that out on the other end of hyperspace. 

Collecting all the books she could carry, and Force-floating the rest, Rey traversed her way back out of the Temple as quickly as possible. 

A good thing too, as she cleared the entryway to find a worked up BB-8 zooming straight for her, and voices pouring out of the open ramp of the Falcon.

Fragging _scavengers_ \- there were plenty of newer, better ships for the taking on this planet, why were they casing hers? 

“Hey!” she cried, struggling not to drop any books as she ran for the ramp. “What in the kriffing Galaxy are you- Rose?”

Rose Tico had just stepped into view, her confused frown flipping into a delighted smile as Rey came up into the ship.

“Rey! Oh, thank the Maker, it’s you! We saw the Falcon and thought-” She paused to pull Rey into a hug, armful of books be damned. Behind her came a resistance pilot Rey had never spoken to, but she waved in a friendly way and stepped past them, departing the ship to give them privacy. 

“We thought someone had stolen her,” Rose continued, “or that maybe Chewie came to join in the haul, but…”

She trailed off as she pulled back, finally noticing Rey’s appearance - covered in dust, with bloody palms and a bounty that was distinctly _not_ expensive ship parts.

Rey smiled sheepishly. “I’m sort of on a private mission,” she admitted. 

Rose lifted an eyebrow. 

“Jedi business,” Rey added, desperately hoping to avoid any further questions. The engineer looked nonplussed, but nodded. 

“Gotcha. Well, as long as you’ve got the Falcon, we’ll get out of your hair, but- it’s good to see you, Rey. I never got the chance to thank you for your service in the Resistance, but maybe you’re sick of that already - I know I’m ready to move on with life. There’s work to be done.” 

“Of course, it was- I was honored to fight alongside you.” Her smile was more of a wince now, but Rose seemed to understand, gripping her arm in solidarity before stepping back, heading for the door.

“Well, if you need anything, we’ll be out here for another few hours, collecting parts. Gotta pay off those war debts somehow, right?” she laughed, waving as she walked backwards down the ramp. 

“Bye, Rose,” Rey said, and waited as BB-8 rolled in, somewhat subdued. 

“What, sad to see her go?”

 _Wee-woo_ , he agreed.

\----

The flight back to Tatooine was blessedly uneventful, aside from another night of mixed sleep - some of it restful, but with a few nightmares of Exegol thrown in - no surprise there. As always, Ben waited for her at the end, holding out his hand, but this time, Rey didn’t reach for it. Instead, she poured all of her energy, bolstered by the Force, into speaking.

“I’m coming, Ben,” she managed, though her voice sounded very far away, barely audible. “I’m going to bring you back.”

He grinned at her then, the same smile he’d worn after their kiss, and the beauty of it nearly knocked her down. She felt her grip on the dream waiver, his face going fuzzy, and then she was waking in her bunk on the Falcon, cheeks wet with tears. Prepared for it this time, she eased her descent from the air back to the bed, but BB-8 wasn’t nearby, so she wasn’t sure if he had fallen or simply avoided her this time. She wouldn’t blame him. 

Breaking back into the skies of Tatooine, Rey had a plan. Instead of heading straight back to Luke’s old home, she searched the wide expanse of desert for signs of Jawa activity, and was soon rewarded. A sandcrawler was making its way through a narrow ravine, barely wide enough to squeeze through. Swinging the Falcon around, she landed in its path, at a point where the rock formation opened up, and waited for them to come to her.

Of _course_ , they didn’t have a translation droid on board. Rey swore, but kept her composure, asking after parts, a droid adaptor, anything she could use. The Jawas tittered around her, and a couple of them almost swiped BB-8 when she was distracted, but Rey waved a hand and told them they were _happy to assist her in any way they could_. Things started to go much smoother from there.

Finally, after searching their cargo top to bottom, they presented her with an old Empire-era language module that, with some fiddling, could be adapted to fit most common mech droids. It was the best she was likely to get, now that her growing impatience had made the idea of continuing her search sound like torture. 

She just hoped the module had Sith among its promised “millions of languages.” 

It was barely midday on Tatooine when they returned to the moisture farm, and Rey quickly got to work, soldering the module into BB-8’s language processor, with his gladly-given permission. The droid seemed happy to have a job, beyond looking out for Rey, and by evening the part was ready for testing. 

Nervous for a multitude of reasons, Rey double and triple-checked her wiring to ensure she wasn’t about to fry her mechanical friend, but BB-8 could hardly hold still by the time she had closed up his access panels, too excited by the prospect of new abilities. 

Rey had brought all the Sith texts down into the house for convenience, so she picked one at random from the pile and brought it into the bedroom, where BB-8 was rolling laps around the bed, chirping excitedly. 

“All right, all right, settle down. We don’t even know if it’ll work properly. Don’t get your circuits sparking just yet.”

She sat down cross-legged on the bed with the book in her lap, and the droid rolled up to her knee, waiting. 

“Well,” she took a deep breath, praying to all the stars that this would work, and opened the book, holding it up for him to see.

“Okay, BB-8, can you read this?” 

The soft click of calculations came from within him, old tech processing data for the first time in decades, probably. Then he spun in a circle, and with a new, scratchy computerized voice, he said in Galactic Basic,

_"We take what we desire because we can. We can because we have power. We have power because we are Sith."_

Rey sighed in relief, even as she shuddered to hear the cold, merciless proverb. It was too easy to imagine it in the voice of Kylo Ren, echoes of her nightmares in which they ruled from the Sith throne together. That future would never come to pass now, but the memory of it still made her blood run cold. 

BB-8 seemed not to care what his speakers were spewing, only elated to have a new skill, and immediately began translating the second line of the text, declaring, _“Anger and Will, joined together, are the greatest Power. To meditate on Anger and Will with clarity and precision is to open the hidden reservoirs of the Dark Side and all the Power therein.”_

Rey closed the book shut with a snap, startling them both, and the droid rolled backwards.

_Wa-aw-iturit?_

“I’m sorry - you did great, BB-8, thank you. I was just - surprised. That’s all.”

Letting out a shaky breath, she looked down at the thick volume, then over to the pile of remaining tomes, each bigger than the last. This was going to be harder than she thought.   
  


\----

It took them three long days to get through the first five of the books - quite a rapid pace, considering the endless hours of unsavory things she had to sit through. Blessedly, it all seemed to go in one sensor and out the other for BB-8, who cheerfully read her some of the foulest and most unbelievable bantha shit she had ever heard, and never once seeming to know what he was saying. 

Oh, some of it was - interesting, she supposed. There were quasi-practical things woven in among the elitism, cult-y ranting, and ways to kill or torture, but it wasn’t until they opened up the sixth book that something finally started to sound useful for her purposes.

After a boring introduction and beleaguered autobiographical section covering the life of one “Darth Plagueis,” the text wound through various techniques of Force usage, from lengthening one’s life to transcending death. It was during this passage that Rey started to sit up, paying closer attention. 

_“...and yet, while any competent Force User may employ the trick of passing objects along the web of energy that spans the universe, or even use it as a byway themselves, it takes a deft hand and inherent Force ability that no training can imbue, to supplant the Netherworld in place of a True Death. By choosing this path, one may avoid mortal injury, poison, or other threat, but only if preparations are made beforehand._

_While some Sith may call it a vulnerability, it is necessary to create a Force bond, preferably between Apprentice and Sith Master or, failing that, Force sensitive lover or blood relative, though_ their _ability may be the true keystone to saving one’s own life, along with absolute trust, so the choice must be carefully made. Once the Bond is formed, either half of the pair, if so skilled, may choose to enter the Netherworld, the World Between Worlds, in place of death, and thereby wait in that timeless pocket of the Force for their Bonded to call them out again._

_It is the Bond that latches life to life. Much like the dyads spoken of by the Sith Eternal, a Bonded Pair call to one another across the planes of existence. If one is alive, the other may persist within the Netherworld, indefinitely.”_

Rey waited, heart beating faster, but BB-8 did not continue, and abruptly she realized he was waiting for her to turn the page again. This wasn’t exactly what she had expected, with all the tone of an experienced, if arrogant, mechanic explaining how a compressor functions, but it was certainly closer than anything else she’d heard. The text even mentioned d _yads,_ the word sending a thrill up her spine in recognition, like hearing her own name spoken. 

It was the first thing in days that had sounded promising. Her stomach did a flip, as hope and anxiety surged within her. This could be it. This could be the way to getting Ben back.

Carefully, she turned the page, straining to focus on the words as the droid pronounced them.

_“The retrieval of a Bondmate, while simple in theory, takes great Concentration in the Force…”_   
  


Rey spent the better part of a day to prepare for the act itself. Loathe as she was to think of performing some Dark, Sith Ritual, the practicalities of the thing weren’t all that frightening. True, it could all go wrong in a moment, especially considering how much power she would have to use, but she didn’t see how she had a choice in the matter, now. She was committed to trying it. 

The morning of her fourth day on Tatooine, she rose early and headed out into the desert. She would need lodestones to guide and focus her Force Meditation, plucking chunks of red sandstone out of the gravel and placing them into a sack as she went. By the time she had enough, the day had already blazed into a sweltering heat, and she wiped the sweat from her brow above the old pair of sand trooper goggles she wore. The double glare of suns looked icy through her blue-gray lenses, and again she felt the echoes of her past self, climbing orange dunes and swigging warm mouthfuls of water from her canteen. She carried that desert scavenger from a junk planet alongside the poised, powerful Jedi she’d become, her past and her present self, making her way back across the sands of a different planet, and towards her future. For better or worse.

Finally, she completed her preparations by eating a double-portion of rations. She’d need every bit of strength and control she possessed for this to work, if the Sith text was correct. Thankfully, BB-8 was already down in the garage, where she had cajoled him to plug into the solar powerbank and stay in idle charging mode until she returned. She couldn’t stand the thought of accidentally entangling him in this. 

By the time she was finished eating, her seat at the table lay in shadows, the suns making their way toward the horizon as afternoon edged into evening. Climbing back out of the living space, she lugged her sack of rocks several dozen paces away, putting a healthy distance between herself and the house. She wouldn’t risk damage to the structure or her droid friend within it. 

Only the Maker knew what would happen during this ritual, but all that energy she was about to summon had to go somewhere, and if she messed up, she wanted only sand to feel the repercussions.

Settling atop one of the higher dunes, she scattered the rocks all around her, creating a rough circle with herself in the middle. Then she sat cross-legged at the center of them, and recalled the book’s instructions.

_“In simplest terms, the Force User must start by dropping any mental shields, opening themselves up to receive all aspects of the Force, both Dark and Light. For some this may be the most challenging step, especially for those Sith most dedicated to the Dark, but it is tantamount in the process, as the Netherworld consists of both. A bridge cannot be made between the Bonded and their counterpart with the Dark side alone.”_

It was an easy thing here, to open herself up, so far away from the masses of sentient life. The same peace she’d found in the desert was reflected here in the Force, her senses stretching out for many klicks in all directions, encountering no more than the occasional sand serpent or womp rat. Walls down, she inhaled deeply, inviting the whole of the Force to flow through her, Light and Dark alike.

The lodestones began to float at the same time that she did, rising high into the air to circle her form, and riding the currents of the Force as it funneled into her. The sound of her breath came like echoes into silence, her heartbeat slowing as time itself seemed to. 

In her memory, she heard the words of the text continue, as if being read aloud once more.

_“The rest is fairly straightforward, though requires great control: The User must let the energy pool within them. Hold tight to the Force as it flows in, but not out, until the power has built up enough density to act much like a protostar, with its own gravity.”_

She felt her awareness stretching even further, brushing against settlements, Jawas and cave dwellers and herds of massive, horned creatures far out in the desert wilds. It was not a natural sensation, to stop this flow of energy from leaving her corporeal form, but with effort, she focused on drinking it in and _keeping_ it, as if holding her breath. Power filled her like a skein fills with water, her spirit swelling, and all her strength flexing to keep it from bursting forth again. 

With eyes closed, she felt the shadow of clouds as they rolled in. Their darkness blemished the unmarked stretch of azure above her, carrying the sharp scent of ozone, like freshly-cleaned chrome. A crack of thunder broke right overhead.

_“Then comes most vital step: the Concentration. Keeping all of this power in check, the User must focus deeply on the energy signature they are seeking, i.e. the Bondmate, and pull at that thread of life. If the User is strong enough, the power will bridge between the planes and the Bonded can step through, whole again.”_

Wind whipped her face and hair, but Rey was as still as death itself, lodestones spiraling around her at a rapid pace even as a bolt of lightning struck one out of the air, shattering it into dust. 

Rain came next, falling like icicles, so cold they stung her skin raw. In moments her clothes were soaked, but she felt none of it, all her focus on that tug at the back of her mind, the memory of Ben Solo, his warm eyes meeting hers. The Dark and Light had filled her to the brim, until Rey was no longer Rey, but a new star, a Red Giant shrinking in on herself, and at her core was Ben, who now looked back at her from an endless void overhead.

He held out his hand to her, and she caught it with her own, screaming as another bolt of lightning ripped down from the sky and into her chest, the pain and pleasure of it blinding, like bubbles in her veins, like fire across her skin, and she _pulled_ , as hard as she could.

  
  


Ben Solo tumbled from the air, dragging her with him, and they hit the sand with a solid thud, the crunch of glass loud beneath their tangled limbs. 

Rey had the wind knocked out of her, struggling to suck in a breath. Her whole body burned with cold, now empty of all that power, but her mind, finally, felt _whole_.

A weight lifted off of her, and the blackness around her vision receded, and then Ben was holding her, warm and damp and real. She didn’t remember hugging him back, but as she returned to herself, finally dragging air into her lungs, she realized she had her arms wrapped around a very shirtless man, her cheek pressed to his naked shoulder. 

He pulled back to look at her, wet hair plastered to his face, though the clouds above were quickly dissolving. Rippling around her, _through_ her, she felt his joy and pride in her like a physical touch, his boyish smile limned in gold from the setting suns and glittering pools of lightning-wrought glass that surrounded them. 

“Ben,” she breathed, eyes roaming across him, greedy for the sight. He was still sporting a split lip and black eye, as if no time had passed since she’d last seen him. The only difference was his bare chest, rising and falling with rapid breath, a burnished bronze in the sunset. 

“You did it,” he said, lifting his huge hands to cradle her face. “I knew you could. I knew our bond was too strong to break.”

“I still don’t understand how, exactly, but- _you’re here,_ ” she laughed, face aching from the strength of her smile, impossible to stop. 

He grinned back, gaze flickering down to her mouth, but then he glanced up, taking in their surroundings for the first time. “Where _is_ ‘here,’ by the way?”

The reminder of location brought Rey a little further back to reality, and she finally released her hold on him, pulling away to stand up.

“Tatooine,” she told him, glancing back in the direction of the moisture farm. “At your uncle’s house.”

Ben’s answering smile was slow and sardonic, but he lifted a hand up, and Rey took it, tugging him to his feet. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid,” he said through a wince as he put weight on his injured leg, but he was looking out across the landscape, eyes full of memories.  Through the Force, he was a calamity of emotions - homesickness, bitterness, elation, grief. He turned back to look at her, and Rey flushed to realize he hadn’t let go of her hand.

“Rey,” he said, voice low and intimate.

“Yes?” she whispered back, unable to take her eyes off his.

“Is that my shirt?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating! Chapter one remains Gen, for anyone who wants to stop there, but it's about to get steamy from here on out.

Rey always functioned best when there was something to do. Once she realized that Ben was still fresh from the battle against Palpatine and not even capable of standing without pain, she quickly Force-healed his leg as best she could with the dregs of her energy. Unfortunately, the rest of his wounds would have to wait until one of them was more restored; they were both worn out. 

Back inside the house, Rey focused on preparing real food - or, realer than what she’d been eating lately, anyway. While the vegmeat rehydrated in water from the moisture tanks, she escaped into the shelter of the bedroom to dig one of her own shirts out of her pack. She could feel her chagrin at being caught in his clothes echo once more through their Bond, but Ben didn’t comment. 

Taking a deep breath, she tugged at his soaking wet tunic, yanking the dark, heavy material over her head with some effort. In its place, she pulled on her own pale sleeveless shirt, warm and dry, and much better suited for the desert heat anyway, she reminded herself. She tied the excess strips of gauzy linen around her middle with impatient hands, looping it to keep from hanging too low.

Her hair trickled water down her neck, soaking into the fabric of her collar, and she shivered. Reaching up, she pulled the ties out of the damp mess and let it down to air dry, combing fingers through the tangled ends and wincing at the knots. 

For his part, Ben stayed in the outer room, dwelling on his last visit to this place, and very obviously trying to give her what privacy he could, though the walls did nothing to block their connection in the Force. Even as she dressed, Rey could feel the last of the sunlight hitting his bare shoulders and drying his hair into messy waves.

She looked down at the clump of his wet shirt miserably, wishing she _had_ washed it at some point. It carried days’ worth of dirt, sand and sweat by now, too filthy to simply hand back to him. But she didn’t have another shirt his size, and with no soap or sanitation drawers that she could find, cleaning this one wasn’t an option. At least the rain was something, she supposed, wringing it out as best she could and watching the grey water stream to the floor. 

“Don’t concern yourself about it,” Ben’s soft voice came from the doorway, making her jump. She’d been too distracted to notice his approach. 

“It’ll dry fast out here, anyway, and I’m not exactly sparkling clean myself,” he continued. He held out a hand, and with a sigh, Rey passed the still-dripping garment to him, their fingers brushing. 

Without bothering to move, Ben shoved his arms into the sleeves where he stood, then raised the hem and dragged it over his head. Across from him, Rey stared, rooted to the spot as she watched his abdominal muscles contract, then disappear beneath the clammy wool.

He was grinning at her again when she yanked her gaze up, and _damn the fragging Bond_ , she had to put some walls up or _something_ , this was _embarrassing_. 

His smile softened, though the light in it was undimmed. “It’s okay, you know. I’m not going to take it as an invitation.”

Impossibly, her face grew hotter, and she looked down, gritting her teeth and pretending to be fascinated by the quickly-evaporating puddle of water on the floor. In two steps he was looming over her. Her heart thudded as he bent his head towards hers.

“I can wait until you _ask_ me,” he murmured, lips nearly brushing her ear. Then he turned and left the room, while Rey quietly went up in flames of embarrassment, anger, and unavoidable want. 

Brow knit with the effort, she spent a moment desperately trying to pull up her shields, but she was too worn out. Her mind had been splayed wide open from the ritual, and was apparently stuck that way until she recovered her strength. The book had _not_ mentioned this side effect. 

From across the house, she heard Ben, his mind speaking to hers, _“I’ve taken all my shields down too. It only seems fair. I’ll warn you there’s not much pleasant in my memories, but you of all people know who I am, what I’ve done. If it helps, you’re welcome to look as much as you like. I want you to know me, Rey. I won’t keep secrets from you.”_

She didn’t take him up on the offer, finding the idea too invasive, but his present emotions and thoughts were crystal clear to her now, all the time, and it did make her feel a bit more on equal footing. 

Both suns had set by the time she reemerged from the bedroom, only feeling a little awkward as Ben looked up from one of the Jedi texts she’d left out. 

Turning once more to routine for comfort, Rey flicked on the soft orange lights set into the walls and finished putting together their meal from her scant selection of supplies. When it was ready, they sat across from each other to eat, neither speaking. It wasn’t quite a companionable silence when the present company’s mind was yours for the taking, but the two of them were both so tired by then that it didn’t much matter. 

Rey spared a brief thought for BB-8 down in the garage, and Ben lifted his head to look at the stairwell door, but she decided it was better left until morning, and he nodded, clearing his throat. 

“Why Tatooine?” he asked aloud.

“Oh,” she said, and the image of the sabers, buried in the sand, flashed between them. Like a stone tossed into a pond, she felt it hit him again, sending out waves of sadness - for the loss of his mother, the regret of never seeing her again, never apologizing.

“I wish I’d been a little less of a stubborn bastard,” he muttered, huffing a humorless laugh and sniffing as he stared down into his plate. “I wish I’d been a lot of things.”

Rey’s chest contracted painfully, but something she had been curious about took shape in the foreground of her mind. She didn’t want to press on fresh wounds, but suddenly she had to know, the remains of her dinner forgotten.

“How did it happen, Ben? What made you turn?”

His dark eyes caught on hers before sliding away, into the shadowed corners of the room. A rush of shame, remorse and self-flagellation pulsed through him, making her wince, but he stiffened his shoulders and began speaking, voice flat.

“You called me a monster once, and so I was. I don't have any excuse for that. I was driven by anger and ambition. Nothing satisfied me, no victory, no power. I was a bottomless pit, always seeking more, and trying to leave my past behind.” 

He drew in an unsteady breath. “But I dreamed of my family, constantly. Of Mom and Dad, Chewie, even my traitorous Uncle Luke. It didn’t matter if I trained myself to death, if I meditated on hatred, I still woke with the taste of belonging in my mouth every morning. I called it weakness- but it was stronger than I was. It clawed at me from the inside until I nearly went mad with it.”

She felt the pang in his memories, but he didn’t stop to dwell, voice only growing harder. 

“Snoke made me believe that if I could cut out the weak parts of me, the parts that still missed them, I would finally be worthy of the Skywalker legacy. That I could be as great- _greater_ than Vader.” 

He looked up at her, tone going wry. “And then you showed up. Just some girl who could use the Force… but it shook me to my core. I thought I'd found someone who could be by my side in that quest for greatness. A new path, better than a future as Snoke's war dog. And certainly better than the obvious bait-and-switch Palpatine was trying to pull.” 

He cocked his head, mockingly. “‘Here's a fleet of warships, free of charge, just kill the _one_ person you see a future with - my granddaughter.’”

Rey’s eyes stung, the disgust and horror of her bloodline sweeping through her all over again, even as she blazed in anger, denial.

“I didn’t know it before then, Rey, I swear,” he blurted. “But by the time I did… It seemed like only a matter of time before we would fight on the same side. I felt it in the Force - I _saw_ it, that we were a dyad. It made me reckless. I thought I could win you over, and then we’d destroy him together, and have all the resources we needed to do - anything we wanted.” 

He shook his head. “What an _idiot_. I ignored the Light in you the same way I ignored it in myself, because of what I'd done to try to erase it. Kriff, _I killed my Dad_ , and for _nothing_ \- you felt the conflict in me every step of the way. But after that... it was too late to turn back. I knew my mother would never forgive me.”

He went quiet. Around them, a warm breeze blew, sending a scattering of sand down into the room, a susurration against the stone floor.

“When I came for you on the ocean moon,” Ben continued, “you were so _angry_ with me, I thought you were moments from turning, but then my mother-” his voice caught. “I felt her, like she was right next to me, and-” he raked a trembling hand over his face, “She loved me. She _forgave_ me. All she wanted was for me to come home, and I didn't- I didn't know that was even still remotely possible.”

Through their Bond, Rey couldn’t tell where his heartbreak ended and hers began. She reached across the table to take his hand, and he squeezed back gratefully, downcast eyes full of tears. Then he looked up at her, and his emotions wavered, flickering soft and warm.

“When you healed me,” he said, quieter now, “it was like seeing you for the first time. This improbable woman, my equal in the Force - or so I thought. But you're far stronger than I am, Rey.”

His fingers twitched against hers. “You said you wanted to take my hand. Me, Ben. So that made two people who seemed to have forgiven me, somehow. And it _broke_ me. It completely shattered the person I thought I was, and when the pieces fell, what was left was just - me.” 

He shrugged. “I don't even really know who that is, to be honest. I don't know what I am now. Just that I’m not _him_ anymore. He’s _dead_.” 

A bitter laugh choked out of him, and he tilted his head back to glare up at the stars coming into sight overhead. “It’s just a shame it took me so long to kill the bastard. If I’d had the strength to do it sooner, my parents might still be alive.” 

Rey gripped his hand, hard. “ _No_ , Ben. You can’t think like that. The Force led us down this path, not any other. I learned a long time ago not to dwell on the what-if’s. Your mother, Master Luke - they all had regrets, and they were still good people. They showed me that the only thing to do with regrets is learn from them.” 

“I _have_ learned; I’ll keep learning for the rest of my fragging life, probably.” He sighed heavily, pulling away to lean back from the table, swiping at his eyes. “Can we just go to sleep now? I’ve had a very trying day of being dead, and you look like you couldn’t fight off a baby womp rat.” 

At her flare of indignance, he held up his hands, “I mean, it’s you, so I know you could, but - I think we both could use the rest before the next disaster strikes.” He stood and came around the table to offer her a hand up. 

“Expecting something?” Her Force senses twitched, but she detected nothing out of the ordinary. Not that she was sure she even _could_ ; he was right, she was tired. She slid her hand back into his and let him pull her up.

“With my family’s luck? Always.” He kept ahold of her, towing her backwards toward the bedroom.

It took her a moment to realize this, but then it hit her, and she locked up, her whole body going hot. 

“What?” he asked, then saw what she was thinking, and was suddenly a shade pinker himself. 

“Oh. Not for-, just-” he paused, running his free hand through his hair. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight. If that’s okay.”

Rey relaxed slightly, letting him tug her the rest of the way through the door, but tensed up again at the end of the bed. 

“We don’t have to touch,” he offered, dropping her hand abruptly. 

She scowled at him. “Are we looking at the same bed? You’re like three meters tall! Unless you’re planning on sleeping on the floor or _back in the Netherworld_ , I don’t think that’s an option.”

Quickly he revised, “Okay, yeah, it’s a small bed, we’ll probably be touching, but- look,” he sighed, “you can tell whatever I’m thinking anyway, so I’m not going to tiptoe around this because that’s stupid. We’re a dyad, and we’ve been existing on different planes for a while, and it would make me feel a lot better to be close to you.” 

He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Kriff, this is a lot of talking for one day. Can you just sense my intentions and we’ll go to sleep?”

He really was _open_ , perhaps moreso than he’d ever been with her. Scrambled thoughts and feelings spilled across their Bond with no attempt to rein them in, so Rey didn’t _need_ to touch him in order to seek out the truth. But as he dropped his hands, she lifted one of hers and brushed his hair back from his face, fingertips against his temple. His eyes looked straight down into hers, unwavering.

Ben wasn’t exaggerating about being tired. His major wounds from the fight on Exegol were only freshly-healed, but more than that, he was heartsick, unable to let go of his guilt, his deep remorse. 

He was afraid of regressing. Of losing himself to the Dark again.

But most of all he was afraid of losing her. She had every reason to hate him for his past deeds, he knew, and there were plenty of other people she could turn to these days. He had no one. He worried that the only reason she was here, the reason she had pulled him out of the World Between Worlds, was because of the Bond they shared, a compulsion. 

“It’s not,” she told him aloud, willing him to read her in return. “Whatever this is, whatever connection links us- that wouldn’t make me blind to who you are. I… did hate you, at first.” 

He flinched against her touch, but she continued, “I couldn’t understand you. But I’ve also felt the good in you for a long time. Long before you turned to the Light, even when you were still,” her breath hitched, “still a monster, I hoped- I _knew_ _you_ _would_.” She slid her hand down to frame his jaw. “I waited for you, Ben. And now you’re here.” 

He threaded fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck and swayed towards her, his _need_ pulling across the Force, but then he stopped himself, pressing his forehead to hers instead. 

“Rey,” he breathed, and she could feel all of him - relief and sorrow, disbelief and hope, and more.

He had promised not to hide anything from her. She just hadn’t been prepared for _so much_. 

Naked desire warred with his fear of scaring her, but beneath it was something sweeter, almost shy. She blinked, overwhelmed and surprised to realize this was as new to him as it was to her. 

She hadn’t been paying attention to what her own emotions were projecting, but suddenly she felt him stiffen, and then withdraw.

“I get it,” he said, sounding calmer than his feelings would suggest. “It’s sort of like we just met, right?” His lips quirked, halfway between a smile and a grimace. 

Rey brought her other hand up, holding him in place. “Ben,” she said, voice edging on hysterical, “ _Shut up_.” 

Pulling his head down, she pressed her mouth to his, and he inhaled sharply, grasping her shoulders. A tsunami of feeling crashed down on them both, heat and nerves and the sense of being fulfilled, a long wait finally over.

To Rey, it was like being consumed from within. Forgetting all weariness, she was swept up in the warmth of his mouth, his hands as he hauled her closer. He wound his arms around her small frame, pulling her body up against his, and her feet left the ground, making her gasp. She was suddenly alive to all the places their bodies were pressed together, her lips parting under his. 

Ben smiled against her mouth and swiped his tongue in to meet hers, playful and teasing. It drove something in her crazy. She slid her fingers back into his hair, curling them in strands tangled by wind and rain, and pulling his head where she wanted it by force.

They fought for control of the kiss much like they had in battle: in perfect balance, counter-striking each move the other made. It shouldn’t have felt like a bout either could win, not with every thought telegraphed between them, but each drag of their lips felt more combative, heat building, an unspoken sense that _one_ of them would have to give way, but neither was backing down. 

Then his hand came up along her neck, angling her head back for a deeper kiss, and a frisson of sparks shot from her lips to his, stinging him.

He yelped, and they broke apart, mingled surprise and trepidation in the air between them. 

“Sorry,” Rey panted, pupils blown wide and dizzy from kissing him.

But Ben was breathing hard too, and suddenly struggling not to laugh. He leaned back in to kiss her once quickly, and then a second time, lingering, sweet. 

“Don’t be,” he whispered. 

Then he leaned away and just kept going, letting himself fall back onto the bed. Exhaustion was evident in his whole body. His feet hung off the edge, legs too long for the mattress, but he didn’t seem to care, eyes already closed.

Nonplussed, Rey blew out a breath. Her heart was still pounding as she stared down at him, and for a moment she didn’t know whether to follow him down or walk out, to get some air. But he lifted his arm in invitation.

She sighed, feeling the weight of the day’s events, the emotional and physical drain of it all, and gave in. She stretched out next to Ben on the stiff old pallet and he curled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in snug to his side so that her head rested against his chest. 

_Go to sleep_ , he thought at her, and squeezed her hip. 

Part of her felt like arguing, blood still up, affronted- or feeling she _should_ be affronted- at the way he was manhandling her. But his solid form was so comfortable, and she so weary, that she fell asleep instead.

That night she slept deeply, untroubled by a single dream.

\---

  
Rey woke again at first dawn. Through the open doorway, the fickle desert had carried a chill on the wind, raising gooseflesh along her back and arms in stark contrast to the heat where she still pressed against a slumbering Ben Solo. 

Sitting up carefully, she turned to look at him in the dim light. His black eye had bloomed purple and green, and she could see where his lip had split open again, no doubt from their kissing. It looked painful, though he slept peacefully now, unbothered. 

Listening to the comforting sound of his breathing, the blissful quiet, she watched him for a moment, wondering if she had the strength today to heal him fully, until she noticed the quiet of her own mind. Reaching out in the Force, she was surprised to find her strength already returned, her natural walls back up, and a fresh vitality thrumming through her. In fact, despite the massive drain on her energies the day before, Rey felt more rested than she had in weeks. 

Wonderingly, she looked back down at Ben, searching her feelings, but it was impossible to pinpoint what aspect of their night together had so restored her. 

Without waiting a moment more, she reached out to lay a hand feather-light against his cheek, willing a bit of her life force into healing him. It was endlessly gratifying to watch his wounds close up, the sickly color replaced with a healthy flush, and through the Bond she felt a latent discomfort ease. 

His consciousness stirred, and his hand slid up to cover hers, trapping her palm against his skin, though he didn’t open his eyes. 

“Shhh,” she whispered, and could not resist leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his healed lips. “Sleep. There’s nothing to get up this early for.” 

“I’d say there is, if you’re gonna keep doing that,” he mumbled. In a flash he tugged her back down to the bed, flipping her underneath him, and cutting off her surprised laughter with a heated kiss of his own. 

Sheltered once more by her regular shields, Rey discovered that kissing wasn’t nearly so overwhelming, though their Bond still flickered, telegraphing thoughts and emotions with intent. 

Apparently, Ben intended to kiss her breathless. 

It was some time later, when a much warmer breeze blew in, that she pulled back, out of breath. Somehow her hands had crept up under his shirt to rest against his toned sides, though she didn’t remember doing it. 

Ben hovered above her, propped up with one knee wedged high between her legs, ostensibly to keep his weight from crushing her... but the friction it created was too much and not enough at once, and he was smirking down at her like he knew it. 

Frustrated, hot all over and suddenly self-conscious, Rey Force-shoved him off of her, and he windmilled backwards, grasping the edge of the bed to keep from falling.

“Yeah,” he wheezed, hair falling into his eyes, “yes, I deserved that. Sorry.”

She sat up, straightening her clothing with what dignity she could and pushing off the bed to stalk past him.

“Don’t tease,” she growled at him as she fled.

The door leading to the garage was closed, but with a flick of her mind it sliced open ahead of her, and she marched through, down the stairs and into the blessedly cooler air to where BB-8 waited, still idle. 

“Kriff,” she swore softly, leaning against the cold concrete wall and willing her heart to stop hammering. From above, she felt the penitent touch of Ben’s mind to hers, and she took a fortifying breath. 

She didn’t know what she was doing, only that she couldn’t seem to stop. She no longer had a good excuse to be here, squatting in her old Master’s house and doing wildly un-Jedi-like things with _his nephew_. 

But she couldn’t exactly blame Ben for that. _She_ had been the one to kiss him on Exegol, and she had gone to rather extreme lengths to drag him out of another dimension, and then _she_ had been the one to kiss him _again_ last night. Really, she wasn’t even sure what she was mad about; she just hated feeling so… flustered by him. 

Maybe the attraction was just a dyad thing, she considered. Only, she had already discounted that theory to Ben, and she remembered the stretch of muscles disappearing beneath his shirt, and the way his huge smile gave him dimples, and how comforting it felt to have him at her back in a fight. 

It wasn’t just the dyad thing.

In truth, she hadn’t stopped to imagine what came after getting him back. It had just been of the utmost importance to do so. Now that she had succeeded, she only wished someone was there to tell her what to do next.

Looking across the old garage, at least one “next” was obvious. She knew it wasn’t fair to keep him out of action any longer, but so far no one else knew that Ben was here, and she found herself reluctant to give that up. How in the Maker’s name did she begin to explain, anyway?

Sighing, she told herself to quit delaying the inevitable, and pushed off the wall to decouple the droid from the charging port. 

BB-8 powered on instantly, swiveling his head to look up at her and chirping in welcome. 

“Good Morning.” She knelt down, running a hand along his round frame affectionately. “Sleep well?”

 _Woo-it-leep_ , he replied. _It-yoo-ee?_

“Um,” Rey said, stalling as she searched for words. “I’m good. Great, actually. There’s a... friend of mine upstairs. Do you want to come meet him? He’s General Organa’s son.” 

BB-8 tilted his head, puzzled. _Rit-yul-Wee-uu-WURP?_

“No, he’s not Kylo Ren anymore. His name is Ben Solo. He’s- a Jedi like me. Sort of.” She smiled uncertainly, and BB-8 rolled closer, bumping her knee.

_REET-unii-nu-yee, ur-yuu-ooo?_

“ _No_ , he’s not being mean to me,” she huffed, pushing to her feet again. “He’s not- like that anymore. I promise.”

The droid beeped angrily, zooming around the garage. 

“I _know_ he hurt Poe,” she said, talking over him, “he- he hurt a lot of people, but-” inspiration struck her, and she dropped back to sit on her haunches. “BB-8, he’s been _reprogrammed_.”

He slowed to a stop in front of her, head sliding left and then right, considering.

_Buruu-di-di-tiu-ru-eww?_

“I guess you’ll have to decide that for yourself. But he’s my friend, and I’d like you to meet him. Will you come up?”

He gave a slow whistle in the affirmative, though he still held back, lagging behind Rey as she climbed the stairs once more.

The soft hollow bang of his metal frame against the steps was the only way she knew he was still following her. 

Moving out of the shadowed hallway and back into the morning light, Rey halted in her tracks as she spotted Ben. Lounging on the floor by her pack, he was holding her new saber, the purr of its yellow blade soft as he gave it a lazy twirl. 

“I was going to make us breakfast,” he said, eyes still on the weapon. The golden glow of it reflected vividly in his dark eyes. “This was in the bag with the food.” He clicked it off and finally looked up at her. “Nice work. It’s well-balanced.” 

He tossed it to her and she caught it, opening her mouth to ask him something, but she was distracted as BB-8 bumped against her legs from behind, peering around her.

“Right,” she said, looking from the droid to Ben. “BB-8, this is - my friend, Ben Solo. Ben, this is… the bravest droid in the Resistance. He’s saved our skins more times than I can count.”

Ben pushed off the ground and came toward them, dusting sand off his hands. 

“He’s yours?”

“No, Poe Dameron’s, originally. Though he’s quite independent. I think he’s spent more time with me than Poe since we first met on Jakku.”

Ben’s eyes tightened at the mention of Poe, another pang of culpability that struck him and spilled over into their Bond. But he said nothing, just lowered himself to his haunches, eyeing the droid.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly. “It’s...nice to meet you.”

BB-8’s servers spun within him, but he stayed behind Rey, unmoving. 

“I suppose you don’t have any reason to trust me, huh?” He looked intently at BB-8, considering him.

“Well, this is kind of weird, but I guess I might as well start somewhere.” He took a deep breath. “So, uh. I’m sorry for... pretty much all my actions in the last decade.” He glanced up at Rey and she offered him an encouraging smile. 

“I… followed the wrong masters. I picked the wrong side of the war.” His jaw worked, and he looked away for a moment. “I disowned the people who loved me out of twisted ambition. I believed the lies about them, about myself.” 

He dragged in another breath, voice gone rough. “I watched myself and others do terrible things and did nothing, stopped nothing.” 

Letting out a shaky exhale, he wrenched himself back to look at the droid again. 

“I don’t expect to be forgiven. But I do want to thank you for looking after Rey. She deserves a good friend like you.”

Finally, BB-8 came forward, twisting his head to look up at Rey, then back to the man kneeling in front of him. 

_Wa-ulpoo-udu-woo?_

“I-,” Ben paused, startled, and glanced up at her again before he answered. “Yeah, I guess I did kind of reprogram myself. My mother- and Rey, they...showed me I still could be.”

BB-8 seemed to consider this with a soft shower of beeps, and then accept. _WAP-wuum,_ he hummed, then rolled away to examine the moisture tanks, his distress forgotten.

Ben’s shoulders slumped, the tension suddenly gone out of him. Rey felt the shiver of conflict in his emotions, and stepped forward to lay a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Shifting to his knees, he reached out for her, hugging her around the middle and hiding his face against her stomach. 

He was grateful, shaken, sick with remorse, and he _never_ _wanted to have to do that again_. Yet it was just the first of a billion owed apologies, and in all likelihood the easiest he would ever be let off. He sighed, and Rey combed her fingers through his hair, exuding peace and acceptance towards him. 

“I won’t promise it’ll be easier, next time,” she said to the top of his head. “But I do think you’re strong enough to do it, as many times as it takes.” Gently, she pushed his shoulders back to look him in the face. “And I’ll be there with you, or I’ll wait for you afterwards, as many times as it takes.”

He closed his eyes, looking pained. “I don’t know how to do this, Rey. I don’t know what I can offer you in return, after everything you’ve done for me, that you’re still doing.”

“Just... be with me,” she murmured. Ben pushed himself to his feet and wrapped her in a real hug. For a long moment they stood there in the growing light of day, just holding each other.   
  


\----

“Have you thought about building another?” 

They sat at the table once more, though they’d pushed it back to the last corner of shade to finally eat. The threat of searing midday suns edged into the sunken living space, and both of them were already damp with perspiration. 

Rey was shoveling ration bread into her mouth, but had stopped, swallowing her bite to ask the question, telegraphing the image of Ben with her saber. 

In return, the memory of chucking his weapon into the sea flitted from his mind to hers. He shrugged. 

“I’m not exactly a Jedi.” He paused, gaze flicking up to hers. “Or a Sith, obviously. But I don’t know what else that leaves. It always seemed so black and white before: I’m a Force User, so I wield a light saber. Does that still apply now, after everything?” 

“We might be all that’s left of the Force Users,” Rey replied, taking a gulp of water. “I think that means we get to decide for ourselves.” 

He smiled at her, fond, but he shook his head. “Well, either way, it’s not likely I’ll come across another kyber crystal in my lifetime - they’re a lot rarer after Star Killer Base- I mean, after Ilum was destroyed.”

A bolt of excitement struck Rey, and she leapt up from the table, eyes alight. 

“What?” he asked, nudging her shields, but she had slammed them all down, keeping _something_ a surprise. 

She was in and out of the bedroom again in moments, a small leather bag in her hands, which she presented to him with a huge smile. 

Accepting it cautiously, he unclasped the metal buckle and was taken aback to feel a tiny spark of Force Energy, one that didn’t come from either of them. Gently, he pulled out a smaller velvet pouch, dyed a rich Nabooian purple. Soft clicks sounded from within, affirming his suspicions, and he tugged open the drawstrings to pour three perfectly clear kyber crystals out into his palm. 

Astonished, he looked up to find Rey beaming. “Where did you get these?”

“Leia gave them to me before I left on my last mission.” She twisted to sit next to him on the bench. “She said I should choose one to build my own saber once my training was complete, and that I would know when to give out the rest.”

Ben looked pensive. “You think she meant for me to have one,” he said, not quite a question.

“I think she foresaw a lot more than she ever let on.” 

He nodded slowly. “She always did seem to know everything before anyone else. It drove Dad crazy.”

Rey smiled softly, and leaned her head on his shoulder, but a moment later she lifted it again. 

“Ugh, too hot.” 

She dragged her arm across her face, clearing sweat. Their shade had officially abandoned them now, and desert scavenger or not, she no longer felt equipped to shrug it off, grown spoiled by the climes of more temperate planets. “I wish this kriffing house had a working shower.”

Ben sat up straight, turning to look at the ‘fresher door. “Oh, it’s got a trick to it.”

“ _It actually works?_ ” Rey said, incredulous and vexed in equal measure.

“Well, it did the last time I was here. Come on, let’s see.” 

She followed him to the door of the spartan old ‘fresher. Inside, a simple waste disposal system sat across from what she had thought of as a broken shower unit. Polished concrete served as walls and floor, siphoning down to a single drain in the center of the room, where, no doubt, moisture was collected, sanitized, and recycled. In theory. 

Ben stepped in and turned the ancient handle of the shower, but nothing happened. 

Rey crossed her arms. “See? BB-8 and I even disassembled and reassembled the pump unit. It’s hopeless.”

Ben looked like he was trying not to smile, lips twitching, and reached up to bang his fist on a specific spot in the wall near the shower head. A loud creaking sound made her jump, and then with a horrible screech of old pipes, clean water began to jet out. 

Rey stared at the wealth of it, open mouthed. “What- How did- Kriff, I cannot believe that worked! I could have been showering _this_ _entire time_?”

Grinning, Ben shrugged. “Well, now you can,” he said, and he shoved her backwards under the spray, clothes and all. 

Gasping beneath the deluge of cool water, she blinked rapidly, catching just the blur of his fleeing form. “Oh, no you don’t,” she spat, reaching out with the Force and hauling him backwards, until he hit the shower wall next to her with a smack. 

“Ow,” he tried to say, but his face was just the wrong height, directly under the full force of the stream, and he sputtered, even as he sensed Rey’s feral grin behind him.

Turning around, he straightened to full height, towering over her with hair dripping. Rey backed up a step, prepared for retaliation. 

“For the record,” he murmured, “I did try to give you the first shower.” Then he reached back to tug his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the floor with a wet plop. 

Water hit the back of his neck and poured over his broad shoulders from behind, sliding across the prominent muscles of his chest and arms, to drip down into his trousers. His eyes never left her face, waiting for her to blush, or run, or maybe hit him, depending on how annoyed she was. Through the Force her emotions fluctuated from amused to outraged to lascivious, faster than he could keep up.

A day ago, Rey knew she _would_ have fled in frustrated agitation, made skittish by the newness of it all, out of her depth once again. But something in her had shifted since then. 

In the brief hours since she’s dragged Ben back into the world, more of him had been revealed to her than in all the months of Force visions and face-to-face clashes they’d shared before. She’s seen him with his walls down, in euphoria and despair, was equipped with the inviolable knowledge of how much he wanted her. Standing before him now, with a streak of vivid clarity, she recognized the same feelings in herself. 

Her stomach swooped. Gaze traveling up his naked torso, with heat rapidly spiraling through her, she decided to call his bluff. 

Deftly, her fingers tugged at the wet fabric of her own top. Unwinding it from around her waist, she kept her eyes on Ben, and was rewarded by the shock of realization as it hit him. Following his lead, she stripped off the blouse and let it drop to her feet, breathing hard in just her leggings, and intoxicated by the slack-jawed expression of the man before her. Her own audacity had her pulse roaring, sending little shocks of power licking down her fingertips, and she sucked in a slow breath, attempting to control it. 

Ben stood frozen as the spray drummed against his back, taking her in even as he struggled to keep his dark eyes on her face. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he took in a ragged breath of his own, mind touching hers in query, seeking reassurance. When he found it, his eyes darkened even further, and he surged forward to kiss her up against the shower wall. 

He tasted like water, rivulets still streaming from his hair as she wound her arms around his neck, skin slipping against skin before she found her grip. His hands were hot where they framed her hips, sliding up her bare sides until his thumbs brushed the swells of her breasts, and they both panted. 

Ben turned his head to kiss her jaw, then her neck. The salt on her skin tasted better than he could have imagined, and he wanted more. 

He drew his thumb across her nipple, making Rey shudder and cling to him. It sent a flash of possessiveness flooding across their Bond, reverberating through him and back from her, just as strong. Emboldened, he pulled her closer until her naked chest brushed his, and greedily sucked a bruise onto her neck. 

Rey’s breath caught, and she hitched herself higher to wrap a leg around his middle, enjoying the way it made him groan.

The next moment Ben was curling an arm around her to hold up her weight, and with the other he reached back to shut off the valve. Their breathing sounded harsh in the sudden quiet, and Rey took the opportunity to turn her face into his neck and scrape her teeth over the tendons there. His answering growl buzzed against her tongue, and she breathed a laugh against him. 

Hoisting her other leg up to wrap around his waist, he ducked out of the shower, carrying her through the door into a sizzling flash of daylight and past a curious BB-8, before arriving at the bedroom.

The door slid shut behind them a moment later, cutting off a beep of inquiry, but Rey was _a_ _little busy_ , and could only hope BB-8 wouldn’t mind that she didn’t stop to explain. 

Ben walked them the rest of the way to the bed, but then halted for a moment at its foot, still dripping water. She felt a crackle of anxiety fizzle through him before his emotions softened, arms gentling as he laid Rey down. 

Crawling over her, he kissed her again, full and tender, with only the barest quiver against her mouth to show for the nerves she sensed swirling through him. He wanted to be everything, to give her everything she wanted, but even through his passion she could feel it - his self doubt, his fear of failing.

Sliding a hand through his wet hair, she kissed him back with intensity, pushing her emotions towards him so he could feel what she felt: the longing and exhilaration, the impatience, the _arousal_. Ben sucked in a sharp breath and shifted against her, his own desire hard and evident where it pressed into her thigh. 

With an impatient shove of the Force, she flipped them until he was pinned beneath her, letting out a triumphant sound against his mouth. 

It made him laugh, relaxing, and with renewed determination Rey reached between them to find the fastenings of his pants. It was difficult to get a grip with the fabric so wet, but a nudge of the Force did the work for her, and she withdrew, lifting off of him for the space to maneuver them down his legs - not an easy feat, as the wet cloth stuck to skin. 

“I can’t believe we’re on a desert planet and yet I’m wrestling wet trousers off you,” she huffed, tugging as he reached down to help. 

“That was your fault,” he mumbled, and she poked him hard in the side. 

“You started it!” 

Finally, both his pants and undergarments came free, and were dropped over the side of the bed. 

Her task complete, it was Rey’s turn to still, gone shy again as she looked down on so much _skin_. But Ben held out a hand to her, and when she took it he pulled her down to lie next to him, kissing her soft and slow. The tension in her eased, and she laid a hand on his chest, twining their legs together.

“Do you want to-- finish it?” he murmured, voice husky, as he pulled back to search her face and her feelings at the same time.

She was still a little trepidatious, but only because she didn’t quite know what she was doing. Most of what she’d learned about sex was from the lewd gossip of mechanics, traders and seedy business owners, plus a bit from the bawdy jokes of loudmouth Resistance pilots. But she knew enough, and everything from the Force to her own body felt _right_ and ready, alight with want. She had wanted Ben for such a long time; to have him in body as well as in soul felt predestined, and she was confident that between the two of them, they could figure it out okay. 

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes intent on his, and he smiled before kissing her again. His big hands cupped her face, then slid down to caress her neck, her chest, fingertips tickling her stomach, and finally slipping down between her legs to rub against her there. The jolt of pleasure, even through her leggings, had her crying out, pushing into his hand, and he grinned against her lips, face flushed and obviously pleased with himself. He pulled back, but only to hook his fingers into her waistband, and she helped him shove the rest of her clothing off. 

Then there was nothing left between them, and even the warm desert air felt cool on her damp skin.

Ben let out a shaky breath and drew a hand down her side, raising gooseflesh in its path. Looking at her with something like awe, he pulled her back on top of him and kissed her anew, sending waves of dizzying heat through her, and an ache between her legs.

It was only a matter of positioning to get him under her where she wanted him, led by instinct, and then the smooth, heavy length of him was slipping into her, making both of them gasp.

It was much different than simply sharing feelings across the Force. As their bodies fit together, they were suddenly sharing _everything_ , all emotion and sensation, from one to the other and back, their Bond like an echo chamber. 

Experimenting with the new feel of it, Rey closed her eyes and began to move, breath coming unevenly as nerves she’d never felt before sparked deep inside her. It wasn’t what she’d expected at all… it was more. Powerful, magnetic, like using the Force, only, _within her._ She arched her back to take him in deeper, and miraculously, she could feel both her own pleasure and Ben’s: how full she was, how wet and tight and _perfect_ it was, leaving her gasping.

One of his hands came to rest on her hip, guiding her rhythm as they moved together, but with the other he pressed his thumb against her again, almost at the point they were joined, and her whole body _sang_. 

“ _Yes_ ,” she whined, the sensation so immense inside her that it pushed away all thought, and he flipped them again to thrust into her from above, speeding up, and leaning down to kiss her hungrily. 

Rapidly and without warning, the building heat of it spiked hard through her veins and Rey cried out, body pulsing as pleasure crashed through her.

The feel of it surged across their Bond, looping between them, and she couldn’t help another keening noise as Ben came right after her, his hips snapping into hers until he shuddered to a stop, buried inside.

Almost instantly, he went boneless in her arms, both of them panting, sweaty and satiated.

They caught their breath slowly in the aftermath, basking in the closeness, until the rapturous echoes between them finally tapered off. In their wake, the pair were left surrounded by their own bright, undiluted emotions, still mingled between them: a warm tenderness and yearning, deep compassion, fierce loyalty, protectiveness and pride. 

The comprehension of it hit Ben first, but because he felt it, so did Rey. When he drew back to look at her, they wore identical expressions of wonder.

“You love me,” she blurted, astonished, the glow of it filling her until she was beaming.

“And you love me,” he said, almost a whisper. A dark flicker broke through the joy in him, a flash of _I don’t deserve it_ , but Rey was gripping his face, forcing him to look at her. 

“ _Don’t_ ,” she told him. “Don’t hurt us both by pulling away out of some sense of ‘justice’. What’s done is done, and I’ve forgiven you.” She took a breath, her breasts against his chest somehow more intimate than the feeling of him still inside her.

“Ben, we found each other after everything. After Snoke, after Palpatine, after _you died_ , I still found you. I cannot believe that this is wrong.” Her voice grew fiercer, “You were the one who said we were a dyad. So let me _help you_ , but don’t you dare try to leave me behind.” 

“I’m not,” he said, voice thick. “I won’t. I won’t ever leave you behind, Rey.” He held her tight to his chest, eyes blurring. “I promise.”

“Good,” she sniffed with a juddering breath.

Suddenly realizing that all his weight was still on top of her, Ben rolled to his back, legs sprawling out to hang over the edge again. 

They laid side by side for a while, staring up at the rough-hewn ceiling and letting the charged atmosphere between them settle into something calmer, increasingly edged with a sort of dazed joy.

Finally, Ben reached over without looking at her and took her hand. “I do love you,” he said quietly, but Rey heard him clear as day, and her answering smile was blinding even without seeing it.

\----

For the second morning in a row, Rey woke before Ben did, though this time it was to the sound of engines.

Startling upright, she reached through the Force and found a familiar energy just outside. _Finn_ , she thought, panic ripping through her, and she rushed to pull on her clothes.

She was mostly into her leggings by the time Ben jolted awake. 

“Rey?” he asked, swinging around, bleary but rapidly coming to.

“Shh,” she hushed him. “It’s all right. My friend is here. Finn,” she added, sharing a memory of his smiling face, and then another of him holding a blaster.

“The stormtrooper?”

“Not _anymore_.”

Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. “What’s he doing here? I don’t think he’s going to be very happy to see me.”

Tying on a clean shirt, Rey gave a sort of helpless mental shrug. “He said he wanted to visit when I left, but I didn’t think it would be this _soon_.” 

She scooped up her boots from where they’d been left to dry against the wall, grunting as she tugged them on. “Just- stay inside for a bit, okay? Let me talk to him.” 

Fully dressed, she leaned back over the bed to press a quick kiss to the corner of Ben’s mouth in reassurance, then spun and ran for the door.

As it opened, she glanced over her shoulder, and her breath caught again at the view of his bare chest and sleep-mussed hair. He offered her a small nervous smile in return, making her heart clench.

“Put some clothes on,” she whispered furiously as she stepped through, and then the door slid shut between them with a soft hiss.   
  


The small transport ship had set down right next to the Falcon, its green chipped paint standing out vividly against the muted desert flatlands. Climbing up to ground level, Rey could see the ramp of the craft already lowering, and a moment later Finn came bounding down. He spotted her as she stepped from the top of the stairs, and a massive toothy smile broke out across his face. 

“Rey!” He yelled, jogging towards her, and she couldn’t help the bubble of happiness that rose in her chest. Feeling nostalgic and silly and young, she ran to meet her best friend, and they collided with open arms among the ochre dunes, laughing. 

“Maker, it’s good to see you,” he said, pulling back to grin at her some more. “It feels like forever.”

“How are you?” she asked. “How’s Poe, and the Resistance?”

His eyes lit even further. “Oh right... It must have been right after you left - we stopped calling it the Resistance. We’re the _Reconstruction_ now.” He laughed. “Poe said it as a joke, but then everyone started picking it up, and it’s stuck.” 

He turned to look over at the rising suns, dark skin already shining with sweat. “Whew, it’s hot on this planet. How are you standing this?”

“I-” she stopped, holding in a bout of hysterical laughter as the thought came to her. “I have a nice shower. Come on, there’s more shade in the house.”

They walked arm-in-arm back toward the moisture farm, but at the top of the steps, Finn pulled them to a stop.

“Rey,” he said quietly. “Is there someone else here?” 

“ _What_?”

She peered down, but the bedroom door was still closed, and there was no sign of BB-8 either, probably returned to the garage.

“I feel someone.” Finn turned away, pulling her back, and whispering urgently. “That’s part of why I came out here, to tell you-- Rey, I can _feel_ _the Force_.”

Her breath left her in a whoosh, completely knocked off course by this announcement, but she was also… _excited_. That her best friend should be a Force User as well seemed too good to be true. 

“Finn, that’s- that’s amazing!”

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he continued, “I thought it was just a gut feeling, but it’s gotten stronger. And I can feel someone else here _, right now_.”

Snapping back to herself, Rey floundered, completely unsure what to say. She had thought they’d sit and catch up - that she’d have time to find the words, ease him into her own momentous news, but now he was looking at her with concern, a hand on his blaster, waiting. 

“There is someone else here, with me,” she admitted. Immediately, Finn relaxed, quirking his brow in curiosity but no longer readying for a fight. 

“Oh. Well, that’s a relief. Who is it?” 

“I- uh… it’s kind of a long story, actually,” she began, turning to look out into the desert as if help might be on the way. She suddenly couldn’t meet her friend’s searching gaze.

“Rey…” He said, low and suspicious. “Is that...a love bite on your neck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops my hand slipped. This universe has taken over my brain, I've written more in the past week than I have in years. I hope you enjoy this continuation of the story! I had a lot of fun with it :)


	3. Chapter 3

Under the blaze of double suns and the heat trap of sand beneath her feet, Rey still felt a chill hit her like the bracing waves of Ahch-To, whole body plunged into tingling cold, before just as suddenly flashing to a conflagration. Her breath stopped short in her lungs. 

Swinging back to meet Finn’s surprised look, her face flushed with stinging heat that only grew worse as his expression melted into one of pure glee. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a high-pitched beep from behind them. Rey spun around.

 _Woo-too-wee-duu_!

“Artoo!” she cried, weak-kneed with relief for the intervention. She jogged back to greet the white and blue droid as he rolled across the sand. “What are you doing here?”

“He helped me fly that thing,” Finn said wryly. “I’m still learning the basics from Poe, so when I said I wanted to come visit you alone, he insisted I bring Artoo as my copilot.”

Rey smiled, brushing her fingertips against R2-D2’s domed head. “I did wonder how you learned so quickly.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Finn deadpanned, walking back over to face her. “Now can we please get back to that big red blotch on your neck? Because I know you didn’t bring the training remote out here, so unless you got in a fight with some kind of tentacle monster, it sure looks like you had a _real good time_ recently.” 

Rey glared at him, drawing breath to snark back, but he wasn’t _wrong_ , and the words died on her lips.

Finn’s smile widened. “Wait...” his voice lowered to a stage-whisper as he leaned towards her, “is _that_ who’s inside?”

Pulse spiking, she looked back down at R2-D2. “BB-8 is the garage, I think. Can you make it down there on your own?”

He beeped in the affirmative, dashing off over the sands without further invitation.

“It _is_ ,” Finn crowed, merciless. “ _Rey_! Did you find a boyfriend out here? In No Man’s Land?”

His choice of words made her choke, and he revised, reading her wrong. “Or a girlfriend, or whatever. What do I know. I guess we’ve never had time to chat about that before. But- Rey, for real… that’s awesome. I want to hear everything. I want to meet them!” He laughed, grabbing her arms and twirling with her in a circle. “Leave it to you to stumble onto romance in the middle of nowhere. Kriff!”

Rey was helpless before his enthusiasm, her dread rising the longer he went on. But then, against her mind, she felt the brush of Ben’s, his concern over her harried emotions, his own apprehension; and somehow it bolstered her. 

“Finn,” she said, dragging his bouncing dance to a halt. “Finn, I-” she took a shaky breath to brace herself. Like a hand taking hers, she felt the Force within her, steadying her, crystallizing her resolve. She could do this. She _had_ to.

“It’s Ben Solo,” she said. “I brought him back. That’s who’s here.”

Finn frowned, confused, like he couldn’t quite hear her. He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to say something- to correct herself, or laugh maybe- but Rey stared back evenly, stubborn and steeled like she was ready for battle. It was _that_ look that finally made her words sink in, and he jerked backwards, ripping out of her grip. 

“ _What_? I don’t-- What are you _talking_ about?” he shuffled away from her, putting distance between them like each step was a denial. “Kylo Ren is dead. You told me yourself.”

“Yes,” she said, following him, stepping closer. “ _Kylo Ren_ is. And I thought Ben Solo was too, but he’s not. He’s alive, and he’s here with me.”

“That doesn’t make any kriffing sense! Are you-” he tilted his head, reaccessing her. “Is it heatstroke, or something? You’ve been out here a while, maybe all this sun-”

“No, Finn, I’m not _delusional_ ,” she growled. “I’m trying to tell you what happened. If you’ll just listen to me for one kriffing minute.” 

“I _am_ listening,” he yelled, throwing out his arms. They glared at each other across a length of scorched earth, each sucking in lungfuls of arid air.

“What the hell am I supposed to think, Rey? It was one thing when you were sad after the war - we all were.” He gestured to himself, “We all lost people. So I guess I thought… even with you moping around the base wearing his shirt, it was just a weird part of the grieving process. It was symbolic, or whatever. I didn’t pretend to understand it, why you would mourn somebody like that, even if he helped you on Exegol. And then all the sudden you’re leaving, just when we need your help...just when _I_ need your help. You’re telling me you’ve been out here with _him_ this whole time?” His eyes narrowed. “Letting him do _that_ to you?” he gestured to his own neck.

A pulse of anger went through her, but the heat of it was derailed by a new sensation just as quickly. With a start, Rey realized it was Finn; she could feel him through the Force as a presence of his own now, his bewilderment, fear and anger lashing out to her. It broke through her own temper, and she sighed.

“Just- come inside, would you? There’s shade and water, and unless you’d rather get back onto that ship right now and never speak to me again, you’re going to have to listen to the whole story.”

His gaze cut to the house behind her, eyes narrowing even further. 

“Please, Finn. You’re my best friend.” 

He glanced back to her and the tension went out of him, a miserable look on his face, but he gave her a jerky nod.

She led the way down the stone steps, and Finn followed her into the relative shelter of the living space, where a third of the floor still sat in blessedly cool shadows. Across the room, the door to the garage was left open, and the faint sound of electronic noise floated up from below.

Rey lifted the table and benches as one, floating them over to the darkest bit of floor with a smooth wave of her hand. Finn stayed quiet, just watching, so she crossed the room to the water tanks and filled two carved bantha horn cups to the brim.

“It’s not cold,” she warned, handing him one. He shrugged, still not releasing the slight furrow from his brow, but he took a big gulp all the same. 

Rolling her eyes, Rey turned and gestured to the table, taking a seat on the opposite side. Finn followed slowly, eyes still glancing around as if Kylo Ren might pop out at him from behind a door at any minute, red saber blazing.

“Where is he?” he asked gruffly.

“I asked him to wait in the bedroom, so I could explain things to you.”

“The _bedroom_ , huh?”

“Ten seconds ago you were congratulating me, Finn. Besides, I was there when you dragged Poe into the Falcon and locked the door- what was it, an hour after the war ended? Less?”

He crossed his arms, giving her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well, Poe happens to be a hero of the Resistance, who only ever showed me _kindness_ and _respect_ and hasn’t even once tried to kill me or my friends with a laser sword. What’s _your_ excuse? And how did this even happen?!” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Kriff, Rey, I swear it’s like you have your own tractor beam for trouble.”

“I _told_ you that Ben Solo had turned to the Light. He showed up on Exegol and fought Palpatine by my side and then _saved my life_ -”

“Right- you said he gave his life force to you, and _then_ he _died_. Not even a body left behind. So how is he _here_? And how do you know for sure he’s not still evil?”

“I’m getting to that, laser brain!” 

The bedroom door slid open suddenly, and Ben stepped out. Wearing only his pants. 

Finn and Rey both halted, staring. The sight of Ben’s broad bare chest, all that muscle on display, was almost as jarring as his entrance in the middle of their argument.

“Maker, Rey,” Finn said out of the side of his mouth, still staring. “Tell me you didn’t use his shirt to get a clone made.”

Rey brought her hands up to cover her face, shoulders shaking helplessly in laughter or tears, she wasn’t sure. 

_What are you doing?!_ , she thought at Ben.

 _Helping,_ he replied.

Aloud, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Actually I left it in the ‘fresher,” he said, gesturing to the other door. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, I’ll just...” Quickly he strode across and ducked inside, grabbing his poor, damp shirt off the shower floor where he’d dropped it the day before. He certainly didn’t regret _that_ , but he did wish now he’d gotten up later to hang the thing to dry. 

Sighing, he dragged the dirty, wet garment on for the second time, shivering even in the warm daylight, before he stepped back out to hover awkwardly in the doorway.

The ex-stormtrooper was still staring at him, tensed and looking increasingly murderous, until Rey placed a hand on his arm.

“Do you trust me or not, Finn?”

He glanced back to her, disconcerted. “Of course I do. But Stars, he nearly _cut me in half_. He tortured Poe and killed Han. How can you ever forgive someone after that?”

Rey opened her mouth, but Ben beat her to it. “You’re right.”

Finn’s frown deepened, not expecting that reply. 

“I did all those things, and worse,” Ben continued, staring straight at Finn. “I was poisoned from the inside out, groomed for the Dark side since I was a kid. I was never supposed to be anything but a weapon.”

Finn turned back to Rey. “And you wanna kiss this guy?!”

 _That’s not_ **_helping_** _, Ben,_ Rey thought towards him furiously. 

_Hold on_ , he sent back.

“But as much as I didn’t want to admit it, there _was_ still good left inside me - the Force wouldn’t let me be fully corrupted, no matter what lies I swallowed. And eventually that good overpowered the bad, and I escaped the path that had been set for me.” 

He lowered his head, nodding at Finn. “Just like you did.”

Finn froze. “Whoa, wait a minute-” he began.

“I know,” Ben said, “I know it’s not the same. I did a lot of terrible things before Rey came along and showed me there was another way, and even then it took her _and_ my mother to get through to me; you broke out of it all by yourself.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door frame, his steady, calm gaze never leaving the other man’s.

“But I know your past: the conditioning the First Order put you through, the years of training and brainwashing. You had a purpose. They made you into a soldier. In some ways, we’re not that different.”

Finn’s jaw clenched, and Ben sighed, spreading his hands in apology. “I’m sorry - both that you had to go through that, and for what I’ve done too. I’m not who I was anymore, but I know that doesn’t change the past. I hope, in time, I can make amends... or at least, I’m going to try to.”

Rey bit back a smile, appreciating the cleverness of Ben’s approach, but was disappointed to feel another spike of anger from her friend. 

Finn pushed himself up from the table. “I don’t think I can do this right now,” he said, looking at Rey alone. “You may have bought into all this, but I’m not sure I want to. I’m gonna go...back to the ship for a while. Sorry, Rey.”

“Finn-” she tried, but he shook his head firmly, and she let up.

Turning, he climbed back out to the desert, not even glancing down at them from above as he headed for his ship. They watched him go in silence.

“Well. So much for that idea,” Ben finally said, sitting down heavily next to her on the bench. She reached over to lace their fingers together, and despite his low spirits, he couldn’t help a flicker of happiness, her easy affection still a surprise.

“He just needs time.”

Across from them, a clunking sound rose from the stairwell, and in moments the form of two droids appeared.

“Artoo?” Ben breathed, sitting forward.

“You know him?” Rey asked, but she was cut off by the loud sound of R2-D2 himself, cruising forward.

_WAAL-WEEE! Tiktititi._

“Artoo!” Ben let go of Rey and slid to his knees in front of the droid, hands coming up hesitantly to brush the chrome housing. “I never thought I’d see you again.” 

He looked back at Rey. “2R’s been in my family for generations. I grew up with him.” Turning back, he ran a hand over R2-D2’s side affectionately. “How did you get here, pal?”

The blue and white droid spat out a long sequence of beeps and coos, while behind him, BB-8 rolled around excitedly. 

“I see. BB-8 filled you in on everything, huh,” Ben said, sitting back on his heels to run a hand over his face, dejected once more. “I guess you know - what I’ve done, then.” Behind him, Rey touched her mind to his in comfort. 

_BUURR-REER- weet-Woo-ooo,_ the droid replied. _Wa-ulpoo-udu-woo._

Ben slid sideways, catching himself with a palm against the ground as he huffed a wet laugh. After a moment he looked up at the spinning dome of R2-D2’s head, the blue and red lights bright and blurred through his tears. “Yeah, buddy. That’s right. I’ve been reprogrammed. It’s... not quite like my backup files were restored, but- close enough.”

R2-D2 teetered side to side, chirping excitedly. 

“I missed you too. You have no idea how good it is to see an old friend.”

Edging around them carefully, BB-8 came over to Rey, with a quiet succession of beeps.

“Finn went back to the ship,” she replied softly. “He’s still... mad at Ben. And me, probably.” 

BB-8 cooed despondently. 

Looking back at them, Ben wiped his eyes and shared a tremulous smile with Rey. 

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “it probably did go about as well as it could have, all things considered. It took _me_ a while to see beyond your mask, too, and I was in your head all that time…” She trailed off, inspiration dawning. Ben raised an eyebrow and she gave him a hopeful grin. 

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this,” Ben replied, looking back to the old droid with a weary sigh.

 _Wurt-URP,_ he agreed.

\----

  
  


It was closer to suns down by the time Rey knocked on the hatch of Finn’s ship. Several long, tense moments passed as she waited, arms full of warm containers, and then finally the click and hiss of the airlock warned her to step back, the ramp lowering to just in front of her feet. 

Finn stood at the top, frowning down at her. 

“I brought a peace offering,” she said. “Hungry?”

He glanced at the boxes she carried, his mouth quirking. “I have all the same rations you do, you know.”

“Yes,” she agreed, hesitantly coming up the ramp, “but this is already warm.”

Rolling his eyes, Finn turned and headed back into the ship, and Rey followed with a quiet sigh of relief.

He led her back to the galley, a cramped square space lined with cushioned seats and a small table in the middle, with a tiny kitchen unit against the wall. 

Finn pulled down two glasses and filled them from the tap, setting them both on the table before sliding into the booth where Rey was unboxing the food.

From the corner, R2-D2 whistled a hello, and Rey turned, surprised to see him there, along with BB-8. She had assumed they were back down in the garage, though she hadn’t been paying either much attention in the last few hours. She’d had a plan to solidify. 

The droids joined them by the table, and as Rey took her seat, Finn handed her a hunk of ration bread, clearly fighting a conflicted smile. Rey gave him a real smile back, and they ate their meal quietly for a while, both thoughtful, until finally Finn cleared his throat.

“Listen Rey, I’m sorry. I showed up expecting to surprise you, but I’m the one who was blindsided.” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon, and the droids have been talking my ear off, too. If what they say is true, I can... almost understand it - breaking through programming and all that... but then again, after what we’ve seen, the destruction that the First Order carved through the galaxy… Well. Ren was at the forefront of all of it. Even if you don’t count my _personal_ experiences with him, or how he killed his father and held both you _and_ Poe captive… that’s a huge amount of death and suffering to just-” he waved a piece of breath through the air, “come back from.”

Rey set down her cup, collecting her thoughts. “I know, Finn,” she said, meeting his gaze. “So does he. He’s so torn up about it that I’ve spent most of our time together trying to convince him that he deserves this second chance. Even so, I’m not sure he believes it, half the time.”

“What makes you so sure he does? I mean, honestly, if I woke up one day and learned I had contributed to the deaths of _thousands_ , and then I died doing one good deed... I think I would just stay dead.”

“You really want to know what makes me sure?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Well...yeah, I guess.” 

“Close your eyes.” 

Finn quirked an eyebrow, but at her expectant look, he sighed and did as she asked. Rey closed her eyes too, and let her sense of the Force expand. 

“Here’s your first lesson in the Force. Let your mind unfold, your senses spreading out. Can you feel that?” she asked, her energy bumping up against his. He wasn’t as strong as Ben, or Masters Luke and Leia, but now that she could feel him, she didn’t know how she’d missed it before. 

“Is that...you?” His emotions flickered, trepidation giving way to surprise and excitement. 

“It is,” Rey said. She thought of Master Luke, of those first lessons with him. “Look further out. What else can you feel?”

Finn’s breath came slow, deep. “Warmth,” he said. “Bright suns. Dry ground. But...Life hidden underneath. Water in the plants, animals eating them- and each other. Huh. Death...and Life coming after it again.”

“Balance,” Rey said softly. 

“All of it...the whole planet, even you and me, we’re...connected?”

She smiled. “That’s the Force.”

“Cool,” Finn said, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

“Now, try to focus, look deeper. What can you feel _in me_?” she asked, working to keep herself open to Finn’s intense curiosity. He pressed in on her mind all at once, and she winced.

“Wow, is this what your head is like? I mean, it feels like you, but there’s _so much._ ”

“People are complex,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Can you feel that same balance in me?”

 _“_ Huh. Uh, yeah, there’s Light everywhere...and almost as much Darkness. Rey… is that normal?”

“Depends on who you ask,” she replied. “The Jedi and the Sith, they tended to think that Force Users had to pick sides. But Life isn’t like that, as you just described: Light and Dark. Balance. It’s all there, so why should people be any different?”

Finn’s surprise and then contemplation was encouraging. He seemed to be edging towards agreement, though was still a bit unsure. Rey pressed her advantage. 

“Can you feel Ben?” 

Instantly, Finn’s energy sparked, erratic with frustration. “Rey-” he warned.

“You wanted to know what I saw in him. See for yourself.”

He huffed, but in the Force she could see the flow of his mind as he reluctantly turned towards the third presence a little further out. 

For all his initial apprehension, Ben had been surprisingly pliant about dropping his shields for a stranger, once Rey had explained her idea. In fact he seemed prepared to do _whatever_ Rey wanted; through their Bond, she could read the guilt there - that of all people, he was in no position to object to an invasion of the mind. She might have argued, but her concerns over reaching Finn were impossible to hide, and Ben simply dropped his shields, ready. 

Approaching through the Force, Finn was still clumsy, his focus unrefined, but he met no resistance as he encountered Ben’s energy. Inhaling sharply, he tensed, bracing for Darkness, for attack, but there wasn’t any more of the former in Ben than there was in Rey, and absolutely none of the latter. Instead, he found a space of quiet discomposure, a mind full of guilt and grief… but also love. Finn’s mouth fell open as he sunk deeper, enveloped within Ben’s feelings for Rey, so vast and steadfast. 

Woven among it all were threads of hope, fine as silk but carrying the rest of him in spite of the weight of all his misdeeds. And there, beneath everything, was so much Light within him that Finn grit his teeth, actively working not to be impressed.

“This is all...from him?” 

“The Light? Yes. It was always in him, smothered under the guidance of Snoke and then himself… but I could feel it. He and I are bound together in the Force. Even when we were enemies, I could feel the conflict in him, that Light struggling to break free. And now it has.”

Finn went quiet, his mind slowly withdrawing until he opened his eyes. Rey opened hers, too, and they looked at one another. 

“Okay. I can see who he is right now,” Finn allowed. “He’s... _a mess_ , but he’s not- Kylo Ren, I guess. I remember what that guy was like, even before I could sense him in the Force.”

He leaned back against the seat, looking tired. “Kriff, I just don’t know how to look at him though.”

“It doesn’t have to be an overnight decision,” Rey said quietly. “I wouldn’t ask you to be - friends. But maybe... you could give him a chance? To be something other than an enemy. That’s all I’m asking.”

Finn went quiet, looking down at the scraps left on his plate. “This is it, huh? You’re not changing your mind about him.”

She shook her head. “I lost him once. I won’t do it again.”

“How did you… you know, bring him back? Is that a new Jedi skill?”

She snorted. “Not… exactly. It’s a lot of weird Force stuff, but basically: Ben wasn’t ever quite dead, he was sort of... _in_ the Force. Like an in-between world. And I figured out how to pull him back out again.”

“Sounds complicated,” Finn replied.

“It was. I was very lucky that it even worked. It wouldn’t have, on anyone else - it has to do with the Bond we share.”

“Hmm.”

Rey could tell that she’d given him a lot to think about, far beyond forgiveness or redemption. Standing, she came around the table, hesitating, but Finn reached out and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry to have sprung all this on you,” she said over his shoulder. “I wanted it to be gentle, gradual.”

“That’s not really our style though, is it,” he replied, pulling back to look at her, the corner of his mouth drawn up in a sardonic smile.

“No, not really.” 

Rey stood again, smiling softly. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit,” she said. “We can talk more tomorrow?”

He gave her a real smile now, all white teeth and dimples. “I wouldn’t mind another lesson in the Force,” he allowed. “But- maybe we can take a break from going into people’s heads? Teach me how to float stuff or something.”

“Definitely.” She waved, patted R2-D2 on the head and set off back down the gangplank.

“Rey,” Finn called after her, and she turned to look back at him. “I’ll try, okay? I’m gonna try.” 

She beamed at him, heart soaring, and through the Force she felt Ben’s answering smile, his relief at feeling her joy. 

\----

Rey had never planned to stay on Tatooine forever, but it still felt strange to be leaving, after so much had happened here. In four days of awkward encounters, a couple of uncomfortable shared meals between the three of them and a lot of sweating in the sun taking Force lessons, Finn had declared himself ready to get the hell off the desert planet and back to their friends on Ajan Kloss. And especially back to Poe.

Rey was quick to agree with him, even though Ben had looked nervous at the idea. But there wasn’t anything for them on Tatooine now, beyond memories and the avoidance of what promised to be many more awkward confrontations. Rey, too, was ready to see her other friends again; more than that, she was ready to reintroduce Ben to the world, and find whatever path they would take next together. She didn’t see the point in waiting anymore.

She was mulling this over as she packed up their few things. The Jedi texts and the leftover rations and her clothes. It took her all of a few minutes, but she lingered over the task, suddenly feeling nostalgic for this place, wondering if she might ever have a real home, someplace to come back to. The moisture farm was a harsh place, but it had served her well, and would always be important to her. It’s where she had gotten Ben back. 

Glancing down at the haphazard pile of Sith texts, she felt an idea float over her, and nodded to herself in satisfaction. Gathering up the books, floating more than half of them, she made her way back out of the bedroom and past Ben, who sat tinkering with the framework of a new saber at the table. 

Rey spared him a smile, but turned to head down into the garage. Each step lower on the stone stairs felt a degree cooler, until she reached the blessedly comfortable subterranean work space. There were old metal cabinets against the far wall, some still spilling empire-era parts and a tangled knot of wiring, but the dry air had preserved them in perfect condition. Rey figured it would do the same for the Sith texts. 

She slotted them into a high empty shelf, where no doubt they would last for many generations more, in case she - or some future Force user - should ever have need of the knowledge. After all, in spite of the Darkness and awful corruption therein, the information within one of these tainted works had led her to save Ben. Rey couldn’t see any wisdom in discarding them now, Dark or not. 

Brushing the dust from her hands, she climbed back up into the sizzling air of daylight and came to the table, sliding in across from Ben where he was accepting a tiny pick from R2-D2 in order to reach inside the wired cylinder of his new saber, tweaking a fastener. 

“All packed,” she said. “How’s it coming?”

He frowned, not taking his eyes off the weapon. “Harder than I remember. I can’t get the damn thing balanced yet.”

“I would offer to help, but I skipped that step entirely and just used a coiled connector.”

He stopped, finally looking up at her in vexation. His energy pulsed out a wave of distress.

“It’s a shortcut, and it worked. But I’m sure your... traditional style also has...benefits…” she was struggling to keep a straight face as his went more and more pouty. He let his hands fall down to the table, glancing up at the searing blue of the sky to sigh dramatically. 

“I can’t believe I came back from the dead for this. It feels like Uncle Luke is right over my shoulder, laughing himself sick.”

A ripple of gruff affection breezed across them both, sudden and gone. Rey and Ben met each other’s eyes, startled, before Rey smiled, bright and pleased. Ben could do nothing but smile back. 

“Hey,” Finn’s voice came from above, where he leaned over the wall. “You guys ready to head out?”

Ben sighed again, looking back down at the half-finished work in his hands. He didn’t need to speak aloud, not bothering to hide his growing trepidation from either of them in the Force. He was terrified; more terrified of facing the resistance fighters, his mother’s people, than he had ever been of Palpatine. 

Rey reached over and squeezed his arm, smiling in sympathy.

“Come on, Solo,” Finn said gruffly. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.” 

Ben surprised them all, even himself, by breaking into a deep giggle at the absurdity of that suggestion.

“Yeah, I bet I’ll be a hit with all your pals,” he said wryly. “‘Hi guys, I know I killed a lot of you - and I just wanted to say: Oops!’” He was struggling to breath through his laughter by the end of the sentence, gone slightly hysterical. 

Rey, too, was helpless against the sudden tickle of humor through their Bond, chuckling even as she tried to stop herself. 

“‘Anyway,’” Ben continued, wheezing, “‘I got over being a power-hungry murderer, so can I stay with you? No hard feelings, right?’” 

Even Finn’s lips were twitching from where he stood at the top of the wall. 

“All right, all right. It’s going to be _terrible_ ,” he said, looking down at them both. “But the sooner we leave, the sooner you get it over with. Rey probably won’t let them kill you. I think. So let’s go.”

Rey wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “He’s right, you know. I won’t let them kill you. Probably.”

Feeling better in spite of himself, Ben rolled his eyes. “Fine, okay. Yeah, let’s get out of here.” 

  
Finn took off first, giving them a wave from the cockpit of the green ship before he lifted off and zoomed up through the atmosphere.

Aboard the Falcon once more, Rey felt a sense of comfort settle around her, even as her own nerves and Ben’s swirled through her stomach. She hadn’t realized it, but somewhere along the way, this ship had become more her home than anywhere else ever had. 

Sliding into the worn leather seats of the cockpit, she flicked on the ship’s circulatory systems and checked their fuel and hydro tanks, babying the glitchy dial that always got stuck, and smoothing her palm over the steering yoke. 

Ben’s presence and footsteps came from behind her, and she turned to look back at him. All traces of humor were gone from his face now as he gingerly ran a hand along the familiar old walls of his father’s craft. 

“Feels just the same as it ever did,” he commented.

“A hunk of junk that by all rights, shouldn’t be flying anymore?” she replied, quirking a soft grin.

“Exactly.” 

Rey held out a hand to him and he came forward, lacing his fingers with hers as he settled into the copilot’s chair. 

“It’s going to be okay, Ben,” she said, tugging him closer for a kiss. “We’ll just take it one thing at a time. I’ll be with you the whole way.” He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed deeply, the smell of old plastech and permasteel and grease filling him with so many childhood memories that for a moment, it was almost like none of the bad things had ever happened. 

Their energy mingled, warm and familiar. When Ben pulled back he was smiling just a little, both fear and hope shining in his eyes. He gave her hand a squeeze before letting go to buckle himself in. 

Rey reached for her own seatbelt, but paused, turning back to eye him. “You didn’t want to pilot, did you? It’s your father’s ship, after all.”

“Nah, I’m not allowed,” he said, the hint of a grin coming back. “Chewie let me fly it once as a kid and I nearly sunk it into a lake. Dad never quite got over it. Said I was worse than Uncle Luke.” 

Adjusting her headset, Rey smiled. “How old were you?”

He was fully grinning now. “Six.” 

She laughed aloud before turning back to the controls and booting up the flight sequence. 

“All right then, I’ll drive. Ready?” 

He let out one more deep breath, and nodded. Engines thrumming, they took off into the sky, bound for the Reconstruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, dear readers! As you can see, this is NOT the final chapter I had promised. It was just turning out to be too long (and taking too much time) for one final part, so I decided to split it into two. That way you don't have to wait so long for more ;) Now there should only be one part left, as everyone at the base finally collides. #yikes
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one - it was a hard one to make realistic, so let me know how I did. 
> 
> <3


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